Sanctity
by Manwards
Summary: A newly married Usagi and Mamoru embark on their honeymoon at a peaceful mountain resort. Unfortunately, one of its residents doesn't look fondly upon the sanctity of marriage. Can the newlyweds survive one final trial before spending eternity together?
1. Prologue

In a large bedroom, inside a beautiful palace that sat in the centre of _Mare Serenitatis_ on the pearl-white world that we would one day know as the moon, a young princess slowly opened her eyes. She had been dreaming, but she couldn't remember what it had been about. 

She rose from the bed, pushing back the luxurious silken covers, and her bare feet took her to the window, her long blonde hair almost brushing against the floor. Her blue eyes took in the twinkling lights of the Silver Millennium, the magnificent kingdom she would one day inherit, before drifting upwards, coming to rest on the distant Earth. It shone in the vastness of space like a sapphire. An enormous green island stretched across its surface.

The princess' name was Serenity, a name that perfectly befit her gentle manner and pure heart, but as she gazed up at the forbidden world, that heart was filled with despair. Somewhere on that great, wide land was the man she loved. She yearned to see him, to hold him, to kiss him, if only for a moment. Their meetings had become more and more infrequent in recent times, and now, with whisperings of darkness clouding the planet, it seemed as though she might never see him again.

"Endymion…" she whispered, the utterance of his name sending a shiver down her spine. She had loved him since the moment she had first glimpsed him, and rather than ebb away, her love for him had only increased, each and every single day, and she knew that as time passed, she would only continue to love him more.

"I want to see you…" she murmured as tears began to tumble from her shining eyes.

The Earth, staring back at her, gave no response.

Misery swallowed her whole, then, and she began to weep. _Endymion_. The man she truly loved, the man she would have done anything for, and the man she could never be with.

As she crouched before the window, her shoulders shaking, her entire body quaking with sobs, the night, like so many others, seemed to last a lifetime. It seemed as though morning would never come.

Princess Serenity, anguished as she was in the absence of her beloved Endymion, didn't really care.


	2. Chapter One

_My feet hurt._

Just one of a thousand gripes that ran through Ichiko Hashimoto's mind as she stepped off of a crowded train and pushed her way through the bustling, irritable post-work crowd to reach the street.

It was the same every day. The long commute to the office building where she worked, on a train so full it was hit and miss as to whether she'd be able to sit down for the journey. Barely able to move, barely able to breathe, barely able to think. Stumbling out of the train and walking the distance to her building, and it was only when she'd stepped through the doors that her day actually begun. The uncomfortable commute was just a prelude to the stresses of her working environment: the increasing amount of pressure mounted on her by her boss; the dependency of her colleagues. Finally, when all of that was over, for one day at least, the train journey began again, the discomfort only intensified by her wearied state. It was Thursday now, and the weekend seemed like a heavenly prospect, but the promise of Friday tomorrow made it seem all too far away.

_My head is killing me._

She supposed she ought to be grateful, though. When she'd arrived at the office that morning she'd been informed that not one, but two members of staff had called in sick, which meant she'd probably have to stay on after her shift ended to take up the slack. She'd telephoned her husband and told him disconsolately that she was in for a long evening, but as it turned out, things had eased off as the day progressed and she'd been able to leave at her allotted time. The overtime pay would have come in handy but on a Thursday evening, the thought of putting in even just a few more hours filled her with a sense of dread.

_I forgot to call him, to tell him I'd be home on time._

That's right, in her haste to catch the train she'd neglected to call her husband and let him know. Not that it really mattered now, she was on the home stretch. A few more minutes of walking and she'd reach her home, a small apartment on the top floor of a complex located in the Saitama prefecture. It wasn't much, but it was all they were able to afford. It was a little cramped, a fact that had been one of the primary catalysts in their increasingly frequent arguments, but there were worse places to live.

_I suppose I've got to cook when I get back._

She felt a tiny stab of anger, directed at her husband, and, irritated as she was following the daily grind, she allowed her mind to seize on it. They'd married young, at the tender age of 19, when they'd both been fresh out of college. Life had seemed so bright then, Ichiko recalled with a bitter taste on her tongue. They'd gotten themselves a little apartment in Saitama and taken office jobs to pay the rent, just until something better came along. Those better things, of which they were certain would come, hadn't shown up immediately, but that was fine. They had each other, and that was what mattered.

Six years passed, and it looked like those better things just weren't going to come after all. The small apartment in Saitama remained their home, those menial office jobs remained their source of income. There had been the occasional promotion, but it hadn't done much to change their situation, and it certainly hadn't enabled them to afford a bigger apartment. Everything stayed the same, but after six years, it wasn't quite as fine as it had been.

They still had each other, sure, and to say that Ichiko didn't love her husband would be an outright mistruth. She did love him, and he loved her, of that she was sure, but that didn't stop the arguments. They'd flare up every now and again and rage intermittently for a month or so before cooling, until something else would spark them up again. Always about the same things: stressful jobs, the small apartment, a lack of money.

In short, neither of them particularly enjoyed their day-to-day life, and when they both came together in their small apartment at the end of a long day, arguments were bound to occur.

It had taken its toll on their marriage in several ways. They spent little time together now. Their evenings were spent in separate rooms of the apartment. They rarely went out together, instead choosing to stick to their own groups of friends during their leisure time. Marital relations had ceased months ago. There may as well have been an invisible barrier down the centre of the bed.

_I deserve better than this._

She did. She was 25 years old, and by all accounts she was an attractive, educated and charming woman. She deserved better than to while away her life in a tiny coffin in the city with a husband who didn't appreciate her.

_Maybe we got married too young._

She regretted that notion as soon as it entered her mind. That wasn't true – they'd been truly in love back then – and now – and she'd known – no, she knew – that he was the man for her. It wasn't fair for her to place the blame solely on him, when she too had started many of their fights.

Really, though, neither of them were to blame. It was just the circumstances they were in. She knew she'd be utterly devastated if she ever lost him, and when she thought it through rationally like this, it seemed ridiculous to let the trappings of everyday life get in the way of the bond they'd shared since their college days.

She made up her mind then that she'd repair the rift that had appeared in their marriage. All they did right now was get up, work, and go to sleep. It was no wonder they were at odds. Ichiko decided she'd do something to remind him of their early days. Perhaps a night out, take in a play or a movie, have a nice meal… hm, but wouldn't that be expensive?

Well, no matter. She'd make him his favourite meal at home instead, they could rent a nice romantic movie from the store just down the street, and then the two of them could retire to the bedroom and rediscover a little of the old magic. Their marriage may have faltered slightly but Ichiko hadn't stopped taking care of herself. She was just as slender and well-groomed as she'd been as a teenager. All it would take was some evening wear that emphasised all the best parts of her body and he'd be putty in her hands.

The thought put a little smile on her face, and she quickened her pace slightly. It wasn't long before she'd turned the final corner. At the end of this street stood her apartment complex. Beneath the shadow of the sky and its fading sunlight, the dark stone building took on a rather sinister appearance.

_My head…_

The headache she'd been nurturing since she'd boarded the train had stepped up a notch now, and she rubbed her temples with the palm of one hand gingerly. Still, she was in a better mood now than she had been, now she'd set her mind to fixing the problems between herself and her husband. She decided on tomorrow night, Friday night. With the relief of a finished week behind them, she was sure they'd be in for a good weekend.

All it took was a little bit of effort.

She entered the building and approached the elevator, only to be greeted with a sight that made her groan out loud. A large "OUT OF ORDER" sign mounted upon the closed doors, one final hurdle for her to clear before she could call it a day. She turned begrudgingly to the stairs and willed her aching feet to climb them.

It was with a great sigh of relief that she slid her key into the lock on her apartment door and twisted it, pausing to gratefully remove her shoes before heading inside. The lights were off and her husband's shoes weren't inside the doorway. It appeared he wasn't home. Since he was still under the impression that she'd be working overtime, he'd probably decided to go for a drink with one of his buddies. That was fine by her, as he was a lot less irritable after a drink or two, and it was when he was slightly inebriated that his delightful sense of humour – one of the things Ichiko found most attractive about him – came to the fore.

She flicked on the lights and closed the door behind her. Making her way to the couch, she sat down, depositing her handbag on the small table in front of her. Her head was still pounding, not helped at all by several stories' worth of stairs to climb. On the train she'd considered taking a bath when she got home, but now she thought it best to have a lie down, perhaps a quick nap. She didn't have to cook tonight after all – no doubt her husband would eat something while he was out, and she didn't have much of an appetite herself.

She sat for a moment longer and then forced herself to stand and make her way over to the bedroom door. It was on the opposite side of the room to the couch. In one fluid motion she reached out, gripped the door handle, turned it, and pushed.

Her mind struggled to process the scene her eyes witnessed inside the small, cosy room that housed their marital bed. There was a figure lying on their back on top of it, the covers splayed around them. It looked like a man, and it had similar facial features to her husband. The hair, dark and wavy, was quite similar, too, and the startled gasp that escaped his throat as he turned to look in her direction sounded rather similar to his voice.

Sitting astride the man was another figure. This one looked like a woman. Her long hair flowed all the way down her back like a waterfall, a startling red in colour. While the male figure looked a lot like her husband, the female figure looked like nobody she knew. Judging from her face – although she could only see it in profile – she was a teenager, and rather a beautiful one at that. Unlike the first figure, this one didn't turn to look at her.

What they were doing was anybody's guess. At first glance, it appeared that the woman was bouncing up and down, her sweaty, slender thighs sliding across those of the male figure. The motion caused her generous breasts to bounce up and down rhythmically, and since Ichiko could clearly see the small, pink protrusions that were her nipples, she guessed the female figure was topless. In fact, she was naked, Ichiko realised. In fact, the other figure was naked too. Their discarded clothes were scattered all about the room, as were their shoes. Some manners these people had, not even removing their shoes when entering another person's home.

Who were these people, and what were they doing in her and her husbands' bedroom?

About half a second after her eyes registered the image, her brain caught up and delivered the truth to her with the merciless suddenness of a bomb exploding.

_My husband is having sex with a strange teenager on our bed._

The paralysis that had gripped her for a moment subsided then and she opened her mouth and screamed. On the bed before her, her husband forcibly shoved the teenage girl – who still hadn't acknowledged Ichiko's presence – away from him. She tumbled off of the bed and landed on the floor, disappearing from sight. Her husband twisted his body around and clutched at the covers, dragging them across to cover his crotch.

"I-I-Ichi…" he stammered – he had dropped the "ko" shortly after their marriage – his voice a high-pitched wail. "You… you said you were… I thought… you said…" He continued to stammer like this for a few moments, until the power of speech was returned to Ichiko and she interrupted him.

"Kanaye!" she screeched – for that was his name – in a frenzied, anguished tone she'd never heard come from her own throat. "You… you…" That was as far as she got before she burst into tears and the sound of sobbing began to fill the small room.

Sitting on the bed, his face red and his body gleaming with sweat, the bedsheets still clasped over his midsection, Kanaye stared at his crying wife with nothing less than abject terror displayed on his face. "Ichi… I… I don't know… she just… it was…" He seemed unable to finish a sentence before he stumbled onto the next one.

"You BASTARD!" screamed Ichiko through her tears. She looked past her husband to where the redheaded teenager stood beside the bed. She watched Ichiko with her eyes narrowed and her mouth slightly upturned to form a devilish smile. Her arms were by her sides, and she made no move to cover her nudity, as Kanaye had. Her firm, pink body glistened.

"YOU SLUT!" cried Ichiko venomously at the stranger. The girl shrugged and rolled her eyes – green eyes, the colour of jade – in a manner that suggested Ichiko was greatly overreacting.

Kanaye began to stammer again. "Ichi, please, listen to me, I-"

"SHUT UP!" roared Ichiko, turning to face him again. "I don't EVER want to see you again!"

"But I-" he protested.

"GET OUT! NOW!"

She watched as he began to scrabble about, looking for his clothes. Her mind reeled. She couldn't think. A thick red mist swirled about in her brain, clouding her eyes, clouding her mind. She'd entered the apartment with the intention of fixing their marriage, convinced herself that it would only take a small effort, and she'd discovered this? How long had it been happening for? Had she been stupid? Had she failed to notice the signs? Had she been too naïve to believe he'd hurt her in this way? Why had he done this to her?

_Why?_

She looked around, suddenly aware that she had no recollection of the last several seconds. Her husband was gone now, he'd ran into the main room of the apartment with his crumpled clothes in his hands. The naked teenager had moved, now standing only a few feet from Ichiko's position in the doorway.

"You…" mumbled Ichiko, the wrath present in her voice a few moments ago replaced by a weak murmur. Tears silently streamed down her cheeks. No more words would come. There didn't seem to be any that applied to a situation like this.

"I can feel it," said the naked woman, opening her mouth for the first time to speak in a low, seductive growl. "Your broken heart." She began to walk towards Ichiko, her small, bare feet sliding across the carpeted floor. Without understanding why, Ichiko began to back away. A voice in her head was telling her to reach out and seize the girl, to tear out her fiery hair, to destroy her perfect young face, but only her feet would move, and they went backwards.

Her husband sat on the couch at the other side of the room, pulling on his trousers and fastening them. He watched as Ichiko shuffled towards him, her back to him, with the teenager advancing on her slowly.

"There is love here," she said, her catty eyes moving over to the couch where Kanaye sat, and then back to Ichiko. "It is wounded." She paused for a moment before adding, "I shall drink from that wound."

Kanaye stood and stepped across the room to stand before her, glaring angrily at the girl he'd been busily making love to only minutes earlier. "Get out of our home," he told her with certainty. "Get out and don't come back again."

"Come back?" asked the teenager, her eyes widening in a passable impression of surprise. She brought one of her hands to her mouth and giggled like a schoolgirl. "I don't have to come back anymore."

Ichiko watched the events that unfolded next with a feeling of detachment, as if this were some scene in a soap opera that she had only a slight interest in, and certainly had no involvement with.

The toes on both of the girls feet, and the fingers on both hands, began to glow with a red light. The lights began to move, quickly travelling up her legs and along her arms, crossing her stomach and climbing her breasts, becoming stronger and brighter all the while. The light collected in one area: her lips, and they began to burn a fierce red, to match her hair.

She stepped forward then and took Kanaye in her arms, pushing her body against his. She stood up on her tiptoes and her face, with its gleaming green eyes and glowing lips, slowly, inexorably, moved towards his. He stared back at her, his eyes wide, as she kissed him.

Long and hard, she kissed him, and when she was finished, she extricated her own body from his and he fell to the ground to lay in a tangled, motionless heap.

_He's dead_, thought Ichiko, but the thought had no meaning, it was just a couple of words that popped into her mind for a reason she couldn't fathom.

The naked girl turned her head and her eyes met with those of the woman who had just watched her husband die. "Don't worry," she said, twisting her bright red lips into a smile. "I saved some for you."

In the final moments of her life, several things flashed through Ichiko's head, swimming among the fog that had descended upon her brain. _He's dead_ was one of them, but she still couldn't understand what the words meant, so she ignored it. _Why?_ was another, but it didn't seem overly important now.

She felt something hot press against her mouth, and her body began to feel terribly cold and empty. The room around her began to darken and her eyelids felt heavy, so she closed them. Another scene came to her then, one she was familiar with. She'd seen it once already, and it had stuck in her mind ever since.

In this scene, a man and a woman were standing together in a grand building lined with stained glass windows. A church, most likely. Yes, it was a church, she recalled. Ichiko watched as the man, a handsome teenager with dark, wavy hair, turned to the woman, an attractive young lady by all accounts. He was wearing a black suit, while she wore a beautiful white dress. The man leaned in close to the woman and whispered four words into her ear. Ichiko heard them clearly, almost as if they were being spoken to her.

"_I love you, Ichi."_

The scene ended then, and nothing followed.


	3. Chapter Two

"Usako?" 

The sleeping girl in the passenger's seat beside him gave no reply, so he repeated himself.

"Usako?"

The slightest of mumbles tumbled from her lips, possibly some sort of response, perhaps recognition, or perhaps not. Mamoru decided to leave her be. She'd fallen asleep just after they'd left Tokyo and begun the longest stretch of their journey, and he knew her well enough to know that once she was asleep, it wasn't easy to wake her.

It was a shame, he thought, as he took in the view before him. She would have loved it. They were driving along the coast, with the sparkling blue sea stretching out on one side of them and all the way to the horizon, and the dusty rock wall of a mountain on the other. Above and before them, the early afternoon sun shone brightly in a sky of purest azure, with only a few small clouds, white and fluffy like cotton candy, dotted here and there. The windows were open and a cool, refreshing breeze ruffled his black hair and tugged at the folds of his favourite green jacket. On all sides the wide seaside road was clear of traffic, save for the odd passer-by.

Behind a pair of black ray-bans, Mamoru's eyes – the same dazzling shade of blue that painted the sky above them – narrowed slightly as his lips curved into a smile. It was truly a wonderful day, he thought, snatching a glance at the girl in the seat beside him. She'd shifted now, her head awkwardly resting on her right shoulder. She mumbled something, but he couldn't make it out over the hum of the engine and the soothing whistle of the sea breeze.

Even in such a position, her beauty was not diminished. Sixteen years old, with the face of an angel. Her closed eyelids, with their long, feminine lashes obscured stunning blue eyes that positively glowed with vitality. Her round face, just on the right side of chubby, was framed by luxurious blonde hair, arranged in the style she had worn since her earliest childhood days, and a long time before that. The _odango atama_, fastened into two balls atop her head, with a long ponytail descending from each, almost reaching down to her feet, or, at the current moment, pooled around her lap. He'd always loved her hair, since the first time he had caught sight of her on the street. He'd even deemed it her nickname, until he had known her well enough to call her by her proper name. Usagi Tsukino.

He tore his eyes away from her and placed them back on the road. The journey was almost over now. This road would take them to a tunnel that led around the mountainside, and their destination lay not far beyond. He shifted the car – a shiny red sportscar that he'd brought as soon as he'd passed his test at the age of eighteen – into the next gear and increased their speed.

"Mmmshn…" came a murmur from beside him.

He stole one more look at her sleeping face before they entered the tunnel, and the need for concentration on the road ahead returned.

Usako.

_My wife._

_

* * *

_

"_Mamochan…" Usagi whispered dreamily as he took her hands in his and slowly, gently rubbed their backs with his thumbs. It was a moment she knew so very well, and yet, at the same time, it was a moment that filled her with the same exhilarating excitement every single time she relived it._

_It was the day of their wedding, and while it had already come and gone and was now firmly in the past, in her sleeping, dreaming mind, Usagi stood there at the altar once again, filled with the same joy she had experienced that magical day. They were shielded from the cloudless blue sky and shining sun – it seemed even the unpredictable summer weather smiled on such a day – by the roof of the grand, quaint church._

_They'd opted for a Western-style wedding, the kind that had been a staple of Usagi's fantasies since she had been old enough to understand the concept of marriage itself. The sunlight streaming in through the stained glass windows reflected a menagerie of colours onto the extravagant white dress she wore, any slight movement causing them to shimmer and blend like the inside of a kaleidoscope. She wore her long blonde hair down in lieu of her usual _odango atama _style. Atop it sat a long white veil, flowing down over her golden hair like a waterfall. Strings of pearls hung around her neck and rested on her bare shoulders, and her lips shone a rosy hue of pink between her blushing cheeks. She had never looked, and indeed felt, as beautiful as she had at that moment._

_To her left stood the vicar, a British gentleman in his upper 50's, his short white hair combed neatly back and a smile on his portly face as he aided in the union of two people so obviously meant to be together. A golden crucifix hung down over his black robe as he spoke – in fluent Japanese, owing to his many years in the country – the words that would legally bind them to one another as man and wife._

_To her right, every seat in the church was filled. Among those crowded into the front row were her closest friends. They had anticipated this day almost as much as the bride and groom had, and it showed in their faces as they beamed and gazed wondrously at the spectacle before them._

_A smile glowed on every mouth and a tear shone in every eye._

_The bridesmaid dresses she had chosen had been to all of their liking – even the boyish Haruka-san, who most likely would have felt more at home in a suit – and their combined radiant beauty threatened to upstage the bride herself._

_A bouquet of white roses sat in the lap of one of her best friends, Rei-chan, who, despite being dubbed "mean" by Usagi, on account of their frequent explosive arguments, had been trusted with the responsibility of chief bridesmaid for the event._

_Perched on one of the pews amongst her friends sat three cats. Two of them were adults, a white tomcat and a black female, and the third was a tiny gray kitten with a bell around her neck. All three of the felines had identical golden crescent-moon shapes on their foreheads. Like all of the humans in the room, the cats' large, shiny eyes were trained intently on the couple before the altar, and it wouldn't be an exaggeration to describe a smile on each of their upturned mouths._

_Usagi's family were, of course, in attendance too. In the front row sat her mother Ikuko, a beautiful and kind lady who shared her daughters' compassion for all things. It had long been her dream for Usagi, and the rest of her family, to wed, and, while she had been assisting her daughter with the preparations for the big day, she had vowed not to let her emotions get the best of her. But when she had seen her up there, pledging herself to the man she'd spend the rest of her life with, looking more beautiful than any of the angels in heaven, her best efforts had failed her, and tears rolled unbidden down her cheeks, reducing her makeup to two lavender-coloured trails that ran parallel down to her chin._

_Squeezing her hand comfortingly was her son, Usagi's younger brother Shingo. A handsome kid with a mop of sandy hair on his head, he sat and watched his older sister with a smirk carefully arranged on his face, hoping that everybody was too engrossed in the ceremony to notice that he was crying too. He'd never admit it to anybody, but he was going to miss their fights over the television on Saturday nights and the daily trading of insults at the breakfast table. Her husband had better take good care of that moron Usagi, he thought, or he'd be in serious trouble._

_Their father Kenji stood behind his daughter, by the altar. His short hair was parted neatly and he wore his best black suit, the one he wore when the magazine he worked for had to cover a fancy cocktail party or the like. The lenses in the thin-rimmed glasses perched on his nose had fogged up slightly. He was no more immune to the emotion of the day than anybody else in the crowded church._

_Kenji had almost choked on his dinner when Usagi had announced her engagement to a man four years her senior. Like many fathers, he was protective of his daughter, particularly when it came to matters such as this. But he had known from the way Usagi spoke of him that it was nothing less than true love, and meeting with the young man had assuaged his fears entirely. It wouldn't be easy to give his daughter away, but he trusted her fiancé and he knew they'd be very, very happy together._

_For a brief moment, at least, attention was diverted away from the bride and groom as the final member of the Tsukino family, a little girl with the outward appearance of perhaps seven or eight years old, made her way down the aisle carrying a basket of white flower petals. All eyes were on her as she tossed the petals this way and that, a wide grin plastered on her pretty young face._

_Her name too was Usagi, but to avoid confusion, and owing to her small size, she was known to everybody as Chibiusa. Like the older Usagi, she usually wore her hair, sugar pink in colour, in a pointed variation of the _odango atama_, but today she wore it loose. She was dressed in a miniature replica of the gorgeous white dress that Usagi wore, and everybody agreed that she looked as adorable as could be._

_To the rest of the family, and to anybody that asked, Usagi and Chibiusa were cousins, but as their eyes connected as she neared the end of the aisle, the true bond between them – a unique blend of best friendship, intense rivalry and, most importantly, the closeness that only a mother and a daughter can possess – had never been stronger._

_Another spectator among the crowd was Haruna Sakurada-sensei, Usagi's middle school teacher, who gazed with awe at her former student. An attractive woman in her thirties, she had always imagined a beautiful wedding such as this for herself, and while it hadn't happened _yet_, the splendour of young Tsukino-san's matrimony only served to strengthen her resolve. Usagi hadn't been the best student. In fact, with her appalling punctuality and increasingly low test scores, she had been among the worst. Countless were the times that she had ordered the young girl to stand outside the classroom, occasionally with a bucket of water or a heavy book on her head to really get the point across. However, her academic skills aside, Usagi was a wonderful girl, and by the looks of it, she was blossoming into a wonderful young woman._

_Countless others lined the pews on either side of the church, stretching right to the back row. The families of her friends, four squabbling sisters and a quartet of young women with outrageous, Amazonian hairstyles, students from the high school that Usagi attended, and many other people who wished to give their best regards to the happy couple._

_With the vicar on one side and the enormous crowd of well-wishers on the other, Usagi stared straight ahead at the groom, the man whom she had loved since before time, as the history books record it, had begun. Mamoru Chiba. Mamochan. He wore a black tuxedo – certainly nothing new – but he had never looked as stunningly handsome as he had at that moment. His sapphire blue eyes locked with hers and her heart swelled, almost painfully, in her chest._

_She wished that his parents could have been there to see their son at that moment. They had tragically been lost in a car crash when he had been a child, an accident that had left him with no memory, and had left him alone. But since he'd met Usagi, he hadn't been alone, and she had vowed a long time ago that he never would be again. She knew that his parents, and everybody else who had been so sadly lost to them, were there in the room with them, watching and smiling and crying like everybody else._

_The ceremony reached its climax, and the best man, a handsome college student by the name of Motoki Furuhata-oniisan, and Mamochan's best friend, passed over the ring. It was a stunning golden ring that shone like a crystal. It was placed onto the bride's finger, and for a moment, Usagi thought she might actually faint. The moment she had dreamed of for so long was finally happening, and it was more wonderful than she could ever have dreamed._

"_Do you, Mamoru Chiba, take this woman, Usagi Tsukino, to be your lawfully wedded wife?" asked the vicar with a smile._

"_I do," replied Mamochan softly, his gaze never wavering from hers._

"_And do you, Usagi Tsukino, take this man, Mamoru Chiba, to be your lawfully wedded husband?" asked the vicar._

_Usagi had practised saying the next two words over and over for months – no, years – and yet, she had no idea how they would sound when they came out of her mouth. She decided there was only one way to find out._

"_I do."_

"_Then, by the power vested in me, I hereby pronounce you man, and wife," said the vicar. "You may now kiss the bride."_

_As their lips gently met and they kissed, long and deep, the room about them erupted into cheers, into laughter, into tears, into applause. Her friends, her family, every single person in attendance focused all of their best wishes upon the couple that stood connected at the altar, and willed them to be together for all eternity, to let nothing stand in the way of their union, to let them live the fairytale life they wished for and deserved._

_After a time that seemed both infinite and infinitesimal, their lips parted and they fell into a deep embrace that lasted a similar length of time, before they turned and waved to the crowd, grinning from ear to ear._

_They had made their way outside then to the accompaniment of a chorus of chiming bells, and Usagi had hurled the bouquet into the crowd. After intense competition between her friends Rei-chan, Mako-chan and Minako-chan, and Unazuki Furuhata-chan, the younger sister of best man Motoki-san, the bundle of white flowers had landed in the hands of Naru Osaka-chan, Usagi's best friend since kindergarten. The bashful Naru-chan had grinned as her face flushed a bright red, and her boyfriend – a boy with thick glasses, acne and a tousle of wild brown hair who went by the name of Umino – raised his head to the sky and whooped with delight, before being silenced by a nudge of the embarrassed Naru-chan's elbow._

_An elegant limousine had carried them swiftly to the reception. No expense had been spared. Thoughtful speeches were made and a great amount of wonderful food was on offer, including an enormous wedding cake that had been prepared by one of her best friends, master cook Mako-chan. Atop the many sweet, iced layers stood figures of a princess in a white gown with long blonde hair – worn in the _odango atama _style, of course – and a prince dressed in a black tuxedo. The two of them were locked in a tight embrace._

_Gifts were given too, of all shapes and sizes. Usagi's brainy friend Ami-chan, practical as always, brought her a weighty, hardcover book. The title of it was so complex, composed primarily of _kanji_, which had never been one of Usagi's academic strong points, that she couldn't read all of it, but she was too embarrassed to ask what it was. She could make out the word "marriage". Was it an advice book, like the ones Ikuko-mama kept hidden in her closet? Or was it a romance novel? She supposed she'd have to read it and find out._

_Rei-chan gave her a cassette tape containing a song she had written and performed herself – a customary gift from the raven-haired beauty – and informed Mamochan with a devilish smile that if he ever got sick of Usagi and her demented ways, he knew where to look her up._

_It was no secret that Mamochan and Rei-chan had dated, ever-so-briefly, before the mutual feelings between he and Usagi had awakened. Her comment sparked a heated argument in which Usagi had told her friend, in no uncertain terms, to stay away from her man. It was the way they always communicated, and nobody so much as batted an eyelid. The look in Rei-chan's eyes, and a nod of her head when nobody else was looking, had conveyed her true sentiments more eloquently than words._

_Numerous other gifts were given by friends and well-wishers, ranging from the practical – a vacuum cleaner from Haruka-san proved she really did have the mind of a boy – to the embarrassing, in the form of a tiny silk negligee given by her bubbly blonde Minako-chan with a knowing smile and a wink._

_A karaoke machine had been available, and the newlyweds – at the insistence of Usagi – claimed the first attempt, with an enthusiastic rendition of a song about fairytale romance, aptly entitled "You're Just My Love". It had met with thunderous applause from the guests, despite Usagi getting the occasional word wrong. She hadn't been informed that the lyrics on display contained _kanji_, without _furigana_ to clarify their pronunciation, and as such she'd slipped up a few times, but nobody seemed to mind._

_Rei-chan took the stage next, never averse to showing off her lovely voice, followed by Minako-chan, who had long nurtured the dream of becoming an idol and relished the chance to perform in front of a captive audience._

_When all of the willing participants had sung their songs, the dancing begun – everything from jazzy numbers to a slow waltz. The guests stopped what they were doing and watched as Mamochan took his wife's hand and led her into the centre of the floor, and they slowly began to move in circles, their bodies entwined. Usagi had been grateful of Mamochan's strong lead. She was the none-too-proud owner of two left feet, after all, and taking a tumble with every pair of eyes in the room on her wasn't at the top of her list of wants._

_The guests that didn't dance mingled about, talking in groups for a while before wandering off in search of fresh conversation, enjoying the food, catching up on events with people they hadn't seen in a while. But every person, without fail, at some point during the evening, turned to look at the bride and groom, and little Chibiusa who stood with them, and every one of them, without fail, was moved by the powerful aura of love that surrounded them._

_A smile on every mouth, and a tear in every eye._

_Then came the weird part of the evening, when the wedding cake had sprouted legs and taken to the stage, bursting into a rock and roll medley before being joined by a dancing glass of juice and half a dozen jam dumplings, who provided the backing vocals. It was quite a sight to see, but Usagi wasn't sure if she remembered it from the first time._

_The group of foodstuffs finished their song, and the cake said into the microphone "This next song is called "_Usako, Wake Up, We're Here_"."_

_Usagi was pondering what an odd title for a song that was, before she woke up._


	4. Chapter Three

"Usako, wake up, we're here," said Mamoru, accentuating his words with a firm shake of her shoulder. For a moment there was no response from the sleeping girl, but as he opened his mouth to speak again, her eyelids fluttered open. She blinked a couple of times. It took a second or two for her pupils to stop swimming and find their focus, before her tiny pink lips curved into a sleepy smile. 

"Good morning, Mamochan."

Mamoru smiled and shook his head. "Afternoon, more like! You slept for the whole journey."

Usagi sat up in her seat and looked around, fully aware of her surroundings now. "Huh? I did?" Her voice had a tone of disappointment in it. She looked back at him, casting her eyes downward as she spoke.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, fingers toying with a lock of the blonde hair that lay spooled in her lap. "I said I'd keep you company for the whole trip."

She looked back up at him, her eyes wide and round as a puppy dog's. Mamoru's heart melted in his chest, and he squeezed her shoulder softly. "Don't worry about it," he replied. He recalled her mumbling during the trip, and asked "What were you dreaming about?"

Usagi thought for a moment before her cheeks blushed cherry red and her eyes retreated to her lap once more. "Oh, nothing much," she said with a private smile. "This and that, you know?"

She seemed to recall something then, and met his eye again. "Oh! Just before you woke me up I was dreaming about cake and juice and dumplings! That probably means I'm hungry, right?" She prodded her stomach, beneath the loose fabric of a pink T-shirt, once or twice with an index finger before nodding sharply, as if an important decision had been made.

"Yep," she said. "I'm definitely hungry."

Mamoru's smile widened at her usual chirpy demeanour and he removed his hand from her shoulder to lean back into his own seat. "Well, let's get checked in, and then we'll get something to eat, okay?" His seatbelt had already been undone, and he reached over to open his door. Usagi nodded and began the arduous process of undoing her own seatbelt, made more difficult than usual as one of her ponytails had become entangled in it.

By the time she'd freed herself and stepped out of the car, Mamoru had opened the trunk and was retrieving their luggage: two suitcases, one notably larger than the other. His face tightened slightly with exertion as he lifted the heavier case, crammed to the brim with Usagi's clothes, shoes and other valuables, seemingly enough for a month. Usagi, however, didn't notice.

Mamoru had parked the car in a small, neat concrete paved parking lot. Only a few of the spaces were currently occupied. Both ends of the lot opened out into a pathway. Behind them was the road leading back to the tunnel they had just entered through. On the other side began a thin cobblestone path that sloped gently upwards, ending at their final destination.

Nestled on a plateau, beneath the tall mountain that glowed a delightful shade of orange in the warm afternoon sun, was a little resort. To the north and east it was walled off by the mountain itself. To the west and south of the small patch of land, there was nothing but the calm blue ocean, stretching out for miles upon miles, as far as the eye could see.

At the end of the cobblestone path, which served as the only entrance and exit to the plateau, stood an impressive glass building, rendered practically invisible due to the sunlight reflecting off of its surface.

In the centre of the area sat a good-sized swimming pool, a few beach chairs laid out beside it. Opposite the pool stood an outdoor tennis court surrounded by a green mesh square, presumably to avoid somebody reclining by the pool being hit in the face by a stray ball. At the far end of the area, closest to the sea, were several log cabins – six, in fact – arranged in three rows of two.

Snuggled behind the mountain as it was, separated from everything but the ocean, it looked like a secret world, a tiny hidden paradise. Usagi's mouth opened wide as she gazed at it, her eyes those of a wondrous child. She turned to Mamoru, who had just finished putting down their cases, and gestured over at the sight excitedly.

"Mamochan! Look!"

Mamoru closed the trunk and walked over to stand beside her, looking up at the same view. "It looks like a great place," he agreed. Usagi nodded vigorously, not turning to look at him, her eyes instead bouncing back and forth between the various sights. "Motoki-oniisan is the best!" she cried enthusiastically. She turned to look up at him then, hastily adding "Except for you, of course!"

Mamoru nodded in agreement. His best friend Motoki, who had served as the best man at their wedding, worked at the Crown Game Centre, an arcade that Usako and her friend Minako-chan spent a great deal of their free time in, and the main depository for their allowances. Motoki's family owned the place, the upper floor of which was the Crown Fruit Parlour, a diner. His younger sister Unazuki-chan worked there, as a waitress.

Somehow, through his dealings with the customers, Motoki had acquired a free pass for three nights' stay at this resort. _Shizuka na Wa_ was the name of the place – The Peaceful Circle. A small, family-run resort, it was generally used by locals and regulars who made reservations to use the facilities at a cheap price, but it did have cabins for couples who wished to stay.

It was a small, private place, and for many that was the attraction – it was a nice way to spend some time away from the stresses of everyday life. It was also a good way to spend time with a loved one, and this was what had prompted Motoki to snap the pass up when it had become available.

After the wedding, they hadn't gone on a honeymoon. They couldn't really afford it, having spent so much on the lavish wedding itself, and Usako's pleas for a fortnight in Hawaii hadn't exactly been within the budget. Besides, married or not, they were still students. Mamoru himself attended a technical school and Usako was still in her first year of high school, which made it difficult to get away.

Summer had arrived now, though, and the high school students were on their break. The timing had been perfect, and so they had decided to gratefully accept the free pass from Motoki and spend a few days here, just the two of them, to make up for the honeymoon they hadn't had.

"I'll race you there!" cried Usagi, before charging off along the stone pathway that led to the entrance. Mamoru called after her, "Wait! The bags!" but she didn't seem to hear him. He sighed and set the alarm on the car, and then picked up both cases and started after his wife.

* * *

"I love it!" cried Usagi as she took in the interior of the comfortable cabin.

She was standing in the centre of the main room of the building. The walls were constructed of wooden logs, a rich coffee brown in colour. A large three-piece sofa of a similar colour – Usagi likened it to hot, delicious cocoa – sat facing a modern television set with a VCR hooked up to it. In between the two, before the sofa, was a small coffee table. An impressive stone fireplace took up a good portion of the wall. A bundle of small wooden logs were stacked beside, and an iron poker hung on a hook nearby. A large rug, it's design a tapestry of colour, was stretched out before it.

To Usagi, it seemed a very cosy, and very mature, place to spend a weekend with her husband.

She turned to face him – he was still standing by the doorway, his hands in the pockets of his green jacket – and grinned, her hands clasped together and held against her chest. "I love it!" she said again. "Don't you, Mamochan?"

Nodding, smiling, he stepped into the centre of the room to stand beside her. "Looks like a nice place, indeed," he agreed, placing one hand on her shoulder and giving it an affectionate squeeze. He looked over at the doorway, where the two suitcases stood beside their shoes. "Now, shall we get the bags unpacked? It's always a good idea to get it out of the way first, so you don't have to-"

He stopped as he turned to look at Usagi. It was clear from her facial expression – her eyes half-closed, her lips pursed slightly – that she wasn't listening to a word he was saying. She was waiting to be kissed. The unpacked suitcases swiftly exited his mind and he turned to face her fully, placing his left hand onto her free shoulder. As he leaned forwards, his head moving in a downward arc, she stood up on her tiptoes, and somewhere in the middle, their lips met.

As his eyelids fluttered to a close, a sigh of contentment rose up within him as he tasted her sweet, slightly-parted lips, felt her hot breath inside his mouth. His arms moved from her shoulders to wrap around her, drawing her closer, and her hands reached up, slowly moving across his broad shoulders before locking together. Embracing tightly, their kiss deepened. He could feel the slender shape of her body pressed against his. Her interlocked fingers teased the nape of his neck, toyed with strands of his dark hair.

After a length of time (an hour? A day? A week?) he felt her moist lips recede from his, and he opened his eyes. They met with hers, their gazes mingling. Her cheeks were a balmy shade of pink. "Say, Mamochan," she murmured beguilingly, "shall we check out the bedroom now?"

"Usako!" he exclaimed, surprised at her forwardness, "We only just got here!" Her response to this was to giggle. "Silly Mamochan!" she said in a tone of mock admonishment. Her head moved to the left, to peer past him, towards the doorway. "I meant so we could put the bags in there!"

"I see," said Mamoru, aware that he was being played with. He expected her to say something then, to either continue or finish her teasing, but she didn't speak. They were still holding one another, and before either of them were aware of it, they were kissing again. It came to a more abrupt end this time around, as a loud growling sound was heard from close by. Usagi grinned sheepishly and withdrew herself, taking a step backwards, before rubbing her stomach with both hands. "Excuse me!" she said with a laugh. "I haven't eaten since breakfast!"

Mamoru turned and headed over to the door, reaching down to pick up both of their suitcases. "We'll get unpacked," he said as he walked  
back towards her, "and then we'll get something to eat from the restaurant."

* * *

When they had entered the resort, the glass building at the end of the cobblestone path had turned out to be the reception. They had checked in, the receptionist a pretty teenage girl with a friendly, helpful smile never more than a half-second from her lips. The building had two stories, and the second story, they were informed, housed a small restaurant. Usagi had been hungry since waking up after the car journey, but they had decided to put the bags in the cabin first, and so had strolled at a leisurely pace along the grounds of the resort towards the cabin area.

There had been much to admire along the way. The grounds were dotted with eye-pleasing features: a wishing well; a round fountain from which two thin jets of water rose and fell; little beds of colourful flowers; ornate benches that afforded a view of the ocean. A chest-high stone wall ran around the perimeter, protecting any careless visitors from the steep drop to the sea below.

They had also glimpsed a few of the resorts' other visitors. A family of four, two adults and two children, had taken up residence in the swimming pool. The children, only young, were splashing about in the shallow end, giggling and shrieking delightedly as their parents watched from nearby. Usagi and Mamoru had smiled at the antics of the children as they passed, and this had caught the attention of the parents. The two couples had exchanged a friendly wave, before the parents went back to watching the children and Usagi and Mamoru had continued on to the cabin.

As they neared the cabin, they had spotted one more person. She'd been sitting by herself on one of the benches overlooking the sea, some distance away. As they were behind her, they couldn't make out her face or clothes. Only her long hair, flame-red in colour, could be seen.

There had been something about her that had made Usagi shudder ever-so-slightly, but she hadn't known what. Perhaps it had been the way the woman had sat motionlessly, staring out at the horizon. Whatever the case, she had forgotten all about her by the time they reached the log cabin and mounted the small flight of wooden steps to the front door.

* * *

There were three doors at the far side of the sitting room that took up the bulk of their cabin. One had led to a small, impossibly clean bathroom with a combined bath and shower unit, the second to a toilet.

Usagi opened the final door, to be greeted with the sight of a small but cosy bedroom. A large double bed was central, with a wooden table next to it. An alarm clock and telephone were placed on it. On the opposite side stood a tall wardrobe with a full length mirror fastened to the front.

Usagi purred with appreciation and hopped onto the bed. She practically sank into the mattress, so thick and luxurious were the quilts. She lay on her back for a moment, eyes closed, smiling happily at the comfort. It was like laying on a bed of marshmallow. She opened her eyes as Mamoru entered, suitcases in hand. He put them down on the carpeted floor and leaned down to open the smaller one, his own. Usagi rolled over onto her stomach and crawled to the end of the bed.

"Come lay down!" she said, "it's like laying on a cloud!"

She turned around to face the pillows – piled three high on each side, and looking as plump and soft as she'd ever seen – and gasped as she spotted two small objects, one atop each stack. She knew immediately what they were: complimentary chocolates! She reached out both hands and plucked them up. One was wrapped in red paper, the other in blue, the ends twisted to form a little bow shape.

"Mamochan?" she asked, holding the pair of treats up for him to see. "Which one do you want? Red or blue?"

He shook his head and held up a hand, and then continued to rummage around inside his bag. He was usually more than partial to a piece of chocolate, but she guessed he wasn't in the mood, or didn't want to spoil his appetite, or something silly like that. After a moment, she shrugged.

"Well, all the more for me," she said, opening the first one and popping it into her mouth. It was delicious, sweet and creamy, and she rolled it around her mouth, letting it melt on her tongue, before swallowing it and moving onto the next one.

She had just placed the second chocolate inside her mouth when the room, without any warning at all, was suddenly flooded with pink light. It was concentrated right above her head, and she scrambled backwards to escape it until she reached the end of the bed. In her panic she tumbled right over the edge and landed on her behind on the floor below. The plush carpeting rendered it relatively painless. She stared up at the harsh light, swallowing the chocolate with a loud gulp.

In only a moment Mamoru was by her side, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet, pushing her backwards towards the open door, his arms placed firmly and protectively on her shoulders. They backed out beyond the doorway and then watched as the light intensified. It was almost painful to look at. Above the bed, at the centre of the light, a cloud of pink vapour began to materialise. In the blink of an eye it grew, lengthening like a snake, and began to twirl around and around like a miniature hurricane. Another object came into vision then, this one solid, a long, thin shape. It fell away from the spinning pink cloud and landed on the bed soundlessly. Then, as quickly as it had begun, it ended. The pink cloud dispersed into nothingness and the bright light that filled the room blinked out.

The object on the bed was all that remained of the strange occurrence. It was about the length of Usagi's forearm, perhaps a little longer, and wrapped in colourful paper. Curiosity got the better of her and she stepped past Mamoru and reached out to pick it up.

"Usako, be careful," warned Mamoru, stepping forward to stand beside her again. Usagi regarded the item laying on the bed and shook her head. "It looks like a present," she observed. "I don't think it's dangerous."

"Presents can be dangerous too," he said, his eyes fixed on it. Usagi nodded, recalling her fifteenth birthday. Mamochan had brought her a pair of gorgeous glass slippers, just like the ones in the fairytale, _Cinderella_. However, unbeknownst to him, the slippers had been booby-trapped by an enemy, and the resulting battle had almost cost both of them their lives.

Cautiously, Usagi reached out to touch the curious object. Her fingers brushed it and she pulled her hand back, half-expecting it to form into a menacing monster, like the slipper had done. But this gift, if indeed that was what it was, didn't morph into a twisted abomination. It remained perfectly still and silent, sitting on the lavish bedspread.

That was all the proof Usagi needed. Before Mamoru could say anything she picked it up with one hand, and with the other she tore the wrapping paper off, to reveal a black box. She set it down on the bed and, glancing at Mamoru for encouragement, which he provided in the form of a slight nod, she pulled the top off.

A delighted gasp escaped her throat as she gazed at the object inside. It was a rose made of sparkling crystal. The head was a deep, glowing red in colour, while the rest of it was clear. Upon the stem were carved dozens of tiny symbols. Leaning closer, Usagi saw that they were crescent-moon shapes. At the end of the stem it widened slightly, ending in a flat edge, presumably to allow it to stand. The soft overhead light in the bedroom shimmered and reflected about inside of it. It was mesmerising.

"Beautiful…" Usagi whispered. Beside her, Mamoru nodded wordlessly, before reaching down to pick it up. He held it in his hands, turning it over, examining it closely. As he admired it, something else caught Usagi's eye. At the bottom of the box was a small white envelope. She retrieved it and opened it carefully, removing the letter that was inside and unfolding it.

The writing on the page looked familiar to her. No _kanji_ had been used, which was a relief. Usagi herself didn't use them, as she always seemed to get them mixed up, or use the wrong number of strokes, and it ended up looking a mess. The large, bold characters used were reminiscent of her own hand, too.

Suddenly, everything fell into place.

"Mamochan!" she exclaimed. "It's from her! I mean, me! I mean… you know!"

Mamoru carefully stood the crystal rose on the bedside table. "What does it say?" he asked.

"'To dearest Usagi-sama, and to charming Mamochan,'" she read. "'I and my husband wish to send you our best regards on your blessed union. That 'Crystal Moon Rose' was a gift given to us long ago, and now we feel it is time for you to receive it. Please treasure it as we have done, and may it give you the strength to stand together no matter what may befall you.'"

She paused. "Is that it?" asked Mamoru.

"'PS. Small Lady, Diana and everybody else sends their love and best wishes,'" she continued.

Mamoru smiled and looked again at the gift. The Crystal Moon Rose, she had called it. He looked around as Usagi spoke again, her eyes still trained on the piece of paper in her hands.

"'PPS. If this has appeared in the wrong cabin, please locate Mr. and Mrs. Chiba and give it to them. Thank-you, and my apologies for the inconvenience."

Mamoru chuckled. She sounded just like Usako. Some things never changed.

"That's it," said Usagi, giving the letter one more scan. At the bottom of the page it was signed "Neo Queen Serenity", and beside the name was a cute little drawing of her smiling face, a jewelled tiara resting between her two blonde _odango_ and a crescent moon shape emblazoned on her forehead.

* * *

In an ancient time, when the world had been a single continent, a great kingdom had flourished on the moon. The Silver Millennium, occupied by a benevolent race of long-living beings, who guided the fledgling Earth in its infancy. The ruler of this kingdom had been the kind and gentle Queen Serenity, and her daughter, the beautiful Princess Serenity, had fallen in love with a man of the Earth. Not just an ordinary man, but Prince Endymion of the Earth's Golden Kingdom. Such a union had been strictly forbidden, but they had continued to meet in secret, and their love had blossomed.

However, their tale had ended in tragedy, as a terrible evil had besieged the Earth, turning its inhabitants against the kind folk of the moon. The evil destroyed the pure kingdom that was the Silver Millennium, and killed its inhabitants. The four soldiers that guarded the princess – soldiers that carried the protection of planets – had been killed in their attempts to stop it. Endymion, the only man of the Earth who had not been brainwashed, bravely fought to protect his beloved Serenity, but evil triumphed, and their lives were extinguished in a mere moment.

The noble Queen Serenity had watched as her kingdom fell around her and her daughter, and the rest of her people, were murdered without mercy. Seeing no other way of bringing about peace, she used the full power of the Silver Millennium's holy stone, the '_Maboroshi no Ginzuishou_' – the Silver Crystal – and sealed the evil away.

Using the full power of the _Ginzuishou_ had proven fatal, and the Queen had rapidly begun to die. In her final moments, she made a wish that everybody who had been killed – her daughter, brave Endymion, the soldiers that had given their lives, and everybody else – would be able to live again, on the Earth, in a time of peace. The power of the _Ginzuishou_ had granted her this wish, and then she had died, and the universe, for a time, fell silent.

Billions of years later, when life had once again taken up residence on the Earth, her wish had been fulfilled. A young couple, Ikuko and Kenji Tsukino, had been blessed with a daughter, whom they had named Usagi. They would never know it, but beneath her clumsy, occasionally childish exterior, there glowed the same pure heart and shining soul of an ancient princess. The soldiers of the Silver Millennium had been reborn too, as had Prince Endymion, in the form of Mamoru Chiba.

Along with them, the evil that had ended their lives was reborn, and they had been called upon to battle once again, in time recovering their memories of the ancient days. The _Ginzuishou_ had been given to Usagi, who, as the princess of the Silver Millennium, was the rightful heir to the stone. She had used its power, along with her friends, and the evil had been defeated again, this time for good. Peace returned to their lives.

However, that peace had been short-lived.

A peaceful date between Usagi and Mamoru had been interrupted by the unexpected arrival of a little girl, who had fallen from the sky. Bearing an uncanny resemblance to Usagi, and calling herself by the same name, she had taken up residence in the Tsukino household in the guise of Chibiusa, Usagi's cousin.

They had soon discovered that she was from the future – the 30th century, in fact – and had come back to the 20th century to locate the '_Maboroshi no Ginzuishou_', to save her mother.

Travelling to the future, they had discovered that her mother was the future incarnation of Usagi, who had been reborn as Neo Queen Serenity and had reclaimed the throne of the Silver Millennium, this time on Earth, in the form of the utopian Crystal Tokyo.

Serenity had been rendered immobile inside a crystal shell to protect her from harm. Her husband, King Endymion, had acted as their guide. Usagi and Chibiusa, together with their friends, had defeated the evil being that wished to destroy both the present and the future along with it, and peace had been restored to Crystal Tokyo.

* * *

"That's it," said Usagi, giving the letter one more scan before folding it and placing it back inside the envelope. She walked over to Mamoru, who was again admiring the Crystal Moon Rose, and wrapped an arm around him. Her head rested against his shoulder.

She gazed at the glimmering rose stood on the table for a moment, before turning her head to look up at him. He looked back down at her, and their lips came together once more in a long, tender kiss. Finally, they separated, and Mamoru put a hand to his stomach.

"I'm getting pretty hungry myself," he admitted. "The bags can wait. Let's get something to eat."

"Okay!" grinned Usagi. Her hand wrapped around his and she led him out of the bedroom, stealing one last glance at the beautiful gift that her future self had sent to her. _Should I buy her something in return? _she pondered as she slipped on her shoes and left the cabin. Neo Queen Serenity was herself, and yet, at the same time, she wasn't. She was the person that Usagi would come to be. The concept began to give her a headache, so she stopped thinking about it.

Really, though, what _would_ Neo Queen Serenity want as a gift?


	5. Chapter Four

The restaurant was just as nice as Usagi had hoped. Located on the second floor of the glass building that also housed the reception area, the windowed walls offered a beautiful view of the sea that surrounded the little resort. They chose a table by the far wall and were shown to their seats by a friendly young waiter. After exchanging pleasantries he took their orders – the menu was quite extensive, with dishes of many nationalities present – and then hurried off to the kitchen. 

Glancing around, Usagi saw that only a couple of the other tables were taken up. She guessed, correctly, that most visitors to the resort arrived on Friday or Saturday, the weekend. Since today was Thursday, it was bound to be quiet.

She and Mamoru filled the wait for their meals with idle chatter. _Manga_ she had read, books he had read, movies they had seen, movies they wanted to see, their friends, her family, Chibiusa, the gift from Neo Queen Serenity, the resort, the cabin… they darted rapidly from one subject to the next with an easiness that had always been natural when they were together.

There had once been a time when Usagi had questioned whether she and Mamochan were compatible. They were very different people, with very different interests. It was true that they had loved one another since the days of the Silver Millennium, but suppose they had nothing to talk about? Nothing in common? Could a relationship like that survive?

Once they had begun to date, however, those fears had quickly been quashed. It was true that they didn't have that much in common: Usagi had tried to take an interest in physics, his subject of choice, enlisting the help of her genius friend Ami-chan to teach her some of the basics. However, the subject had proved so mind-numbingly complex – not to mention boring – that she had quickly abandoned it.

Likewise, he didn't share her interest in _manga_, particularly the funny _shoujo_ ones that she enjoyed the most.

But that wasn't important. When Mamochan was speaking to her about his studies, it suddenly became fascinating. The enthusiasm he showed: his eyes bright; a smile on his lips; the words tumbling out in a constant stream; his hands moving to accentuate his words, or to demonstrate what he was talking about. His enthusiasm was infectious, and soon she was nodding and asking questions, asking him to elaborate on things she wasn't clear on. The fact that she forgot everything the next day just didn't matter.

And likewise, he became engrossed when she was telling him about, say, _Aurora Wedding_. It was one of her favourite _manga_, a long-running series that followed the exploits of a team of beautiful girls with magical powers. She found that she could identify a great deal with the heroine, Linda-chan. She often read the latest issue in bed, before going to sleep, and her outbursts of emotion, ranging from joy (it could be so funny!) to sorrow (it was sometimes so, so sad…) had served to pique his interest. In this way he had followed the story vicariously through her for some time. Usagi herself was a member of the _manga_ club at school, and Mamochan always had something positive to say about her little cartoons, unlike a _certain_ friend of hers.

Usagi gazed out of the window beside her, at the twinkling expanse of the ocean. The only sound was the background noise of the other patrons, quietly chatting amongst themselves. Their own conversation had ended, with Mamochan apparently deep in thought about something. This was something else she had been relieved to discover in the early days of their relationship: silence could be just as fulfilling as the most vibrant conversation. It was never uncomfortable, never tense.

She could sit with Mamochan for hours, just with her hand in his and her head on his shoulder, and knew that she didn't have to speak if she didn't feel like it. Sometimes he'd fall asleep like that, his face as innocent and beautiful as a child's. Sometimes she'd fall asleep instead, and then she'd awaken just enough to feel his strong arms beneath her, gently placing her on the bed, kissing her forehead tenderly, before drifting back to sleep with a smile of contentment on her face.

Her gaze moved from the sea view to the stretch of land that made up the resort. She smiled as she spotted a couple walking hand-in-hand down the path towards them. They were talking, and Usagi could see the same easy repose between them that she had with Mamochan. The woman's head was bobbing up and down – she was laughing.

"Your meal, miss," said a sudden voice from beside her. A startled cry escaped her throat and her head darted around, her eyes meeting with those of the waiter. She smiled, flushing red with embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she said, nervously rubbing the back of her head with her right hand. "I was miles away." He smiled. "Not to worry," he replied, a friendly note in his voice.

He set her meal down before her, and she thanked him graciously. He served Mamoru, too, before bowing his head and leaving them alone. "_Itadakimaaaasu!_" cried Usagi – probably a little too loudly – before hungrily devouring the food. Mamoru ate his own meal more slowly, glancing around on occasion to make sure nobody was paying attention to his wife's terrible manners.

Usagi stopped shovelling food into her mouth and looked up at the doorway as two new customers entered. She recognised them. They were the couple she'd spotted walking down the path with her hands linked. The woman was pretty, with short black hair and a kind smile, and she looked to be in her early twenties. The man looked younger, probably still a teenager, and he was certainly handsome, although it went without saying – of course – that he was nowhere _near_ as handsome as Mamochan. They were both wearing loose summer clothing, like everybody else in the resort.

They were greeted by the same waiter that had served Usagi and Mamoru, and shown to the table closest to theirs. _Guess they wanted the closest view of the sea too_, Usagi figured. After they had ordered, Usagi caught the eye of the woman and smiled. The woman smiled back. That was all the invitation Usagi needed to start a conversation.

"Hiii!" she chimed. "My name's Usagi, it's a pleasure to meet you!" She leaned out of her seat, extending her arm for a handshake. The woman took her hand and shook it, replying "I'm Tomoko Iwamoto, this is my husband Kazuo." She bowed her head, adding "It's nice to meet you too."

Kazuo grinned at her. "A pleasure!"

"I'm Mamoru," chimed in Mamoru, giving the couple a polite nod, "Usako's husband."

The woman, Tomoko, screwed her face up with delight. "Usako!" she exclaimed. "That's so sweet!" Usagi nodded vigorously. "I know!" she agreed, "Mamochan is the sweetest husband in the whole world!"

"Mamochan?" asked Kazuo, raising an eyebrow humorously. Mamoru's face went red and Kazuo laughed, the others quickly joining in.

When their laughter had subsided, Tomoko turned to her husband, an expression of mock anger on her face. "Why don't you have a pet name for me?" she scolded. He held up his hands and shrugged. "Tomoko isn't really an easy one. It's not like I can just add a "ko" to the end." He smiled mischievously. "Unless you want me to call you Tomokoko!"

Tomoko rolled her eyes, while Usagi nodded. "It sounds good to me!" she said, grinning. "I love cocoa! I drink it all the time!" A collective groan came from Mamoru and the Iwamoto couple, before they all burst into laughter again.

"So, are you two here for your honeymoon?" asked Usagi, before taking another mouthful of her food. Tomoko shook her head. "No, we've been married for a year now," she replied, sharing a tender smile with Kazuo. "We just heard about this place and thought we'd come down for a little vacation."

Usagi swallowed. "Have you seen your cabin yet?" she asked. Kazuo replied, "Yeah, we just got finished unpacking. It's really nice."

"Ours too," agreed Usagi. "We haven't unpacked yet, though." She exchanged a knowing glance with Mamoru, both of them thinking about the beautiful glass flower standing on the bedside table. "We got a little distracted."

Tomoko and Kazuo watched them for a moment, before exchanging a knowing glance of their own. "Yeah," said Kazuo, "I remember when we were first married, we used to get distracted all the time."

Tomoko flushed red and smacked the back of his hand playfully. Kazuo shrugged, his expression one of exaggerated innocence. Usagi frowned slightly, confused. Mamoru, however, understood his meaning perfectly and held up his hands as if acquitting himself. "She didn't mean _that_!" he protested, unable to keep a smile from his face.

Usagi's frown deepened, and she leaned towards him, one eye slightly narrowed. "Didn't mean _what_?" she pressed. "What's _that_?"

"You know," said Mamoru, speaking quietly in an unsuccessful bid to lessen his embarrassment. "_That_. What married couples do when they're alone." Usagi thought for a moment. Mamoru could see her running through a mental checklist of the things they did together. After a few seconds, her eyes widened and she flushed as red as the setting sun.

"No!" she exclaimed. "I most certainly did not mean _that_!"

They all laughed again. "I'm dreadfully sorry," said Tomoko, holding a hand to her mouth to conceal her giggles. "My husband can be extremely rude when the fancy takes him." Usagi waved such a concern away. "Don't worry!" she insisted. "It takes a lot more than that to upset me!"

"Oh, I don't know about that…" said Mamoru drolly. Tomoko and Kazuo laughed, and Usagi glared at him. "Mamochan!" she hissed. "Just because Rei-chan isn't here, doesn't mean you can take her place and be mean to me!"

The Iwamoto couple's meals arrived then, and the conversation slowed slightly as they ate. Usagi had already finished hers, and proceeded to order the largest, most fattening – and undoubtedly the most expensive – dessert on the menu.

The conversation moved onwards, as the Iwamoto's shared the story of how they had met. They had both been set up on blind dates by well-meaning friends, and both of their respective dates had turned out to be quite undesirable. They had both made their excuses and left, and had happened to end up sitting next to one another in a small bar.

Noticing the glum look on Tomoko's face, Kazuo had asked her why she looked so despondent. He had listened with surprise as she had told him, before he repeated the same story back to her from his own perspective. Seeing more than a coincidence, they had exchanged numbers, and had been inseparable ever since, marrying after an easy courtship that lasted only a few months.

It had to have been fate, they maintained, and Usagi (a firm believer in such things, and with good cause) had to agree. Judging from the way they had told the story, smiling and laughing and finishing one another's sentences, they seemed to be a perfect match.

Usagi's dessert arrived then, a fearsome-looking mountain of ice cream and cake, and she had torn into it with ravenous ferocity. Mamoru watched her fondly as she did so, and as if feeling his eyes on her, she looked up and their eyes met over the table.

A tiny fleck of ice cream sat on the end of her nose. Mamoru couldn't help smiling. A messy eater or not, she was adorable. She did things her own way, the way she wanted to, not the way others thought she should. She was like a child in that respect, and he wouldn't have changed that, even if he could.

As she was finishing the last of the cake, and the Iwamoto pair were finishing their main course, the onus switched to the Chiba couple. "So, how about the two of you?" asked Tomoko. "How did you wind up together?"

After exchanging a contemplative glance, Usagi and Mamoru recounted a rather abbreviated version of their own tale. They omitted the more fantastic details. As magical as they were, they were also unbelievable. The feelings behind them, however, were easy to believe, just by looking at the young couple.

* * *

_Why did I agree to this?_ thought Usagi glumly as she missed what she estimated to be the 500th ball to come her way. She was standing on the artificial grass turf of the resort's tennis court, with Mamochan on her right and the Iwamoto couple on the other side of the net. It was evening now, the sun having begun its descent towards the sea.

As the end of the meal had approached, Tomoko-san and Kazuo-san had mentioned that they had booked the tennis court for an hour, and would the Chiba couple like to join them? Mamochan had said yes, that would be great, and Usagi had nodded in agreement. She hadn't wanted to disagree with him, and she had convinced herself she'd enjoy it.

Usagi had never been good at ball sports, or indeed any sports. Videogames were much more to her liking. Still, she hadn't played tennis before, and there was a chance, however small, that she'd be a natural and wow them all with her performance.

However, that wasn't the case. Mamochan was a very good tennis player – he was good at everything, it seemed – and their opponents were even better. Usagi, on the other hand, had so far failed at every attempt to hit the ball, and as such, they had yet to score a single point. It had been half an hour now, and Usagi had long passed the point where embarrassment became shame. She just wanted to go back to the cabin and sulk.

Mamochan had retrieved the ball, and then they were playing again. Another short volley between Mamochan and the other couple, and then, inevitably, that little green ball came soaring towards her again. She watched miserably as it approached, half hoping it would strike her in the head and knock her out, so she didn't have to carry on playing.

Sure, it'd give her a headache, but she could spend the rest of the night being pampered by Mamochan, and that was no bad thing. It was certainly better than what she was doing now, making a fool of herself in front of her husband and two strangers.

The ball was still coming towards her. Right towards her, in fact, in a straight line. Usagi's heart bounced inside her chest. _I can hit this_, she thought to herself, tightening her grip on the racquet in her sweaty hand. It was an easy hit. It was practically aiming itself at her racquet. All she had to do was hit it. It didn't matter where the ball went afterwards. As long as she felt the impact of the ball against the mesh of her tennis racquet, she would be satisfied.

The ball was nearing her now, it's seemingly endless journey through the air coming to an end. _Hit it_, Usagi said to herself, willing herself to move. She did, putting her right foot forward. She moved her arm backwards, preparing to swing, but as she did, she lost her balance.

She tried to move her left foot to steady herself, but only succeeded in removing any remaining stability. She tumbled backwards, landing with a soft thud in a pile of arms and legs on the turf. As if to add insult to injury, the small, hard tennis ball finally landed – right in the pit of her stomach, knocking the wind out of her.

_Well, that's it, _thought Usagi, from her sprawled position on the floor. _I am the worst tennis player of all time._

The last straw having been placed on her back, she burst into tears and began to wail loudly, her mouth open wide and tears flowing from her closed eyes like twin rivers. In only a moment, Mamoru was beside her, helping her to her feet, cooing soothingly into her ear. She threw her arms around him and bawled into his chest, not caring how childish she looked.

"I'm so sorry, Usagi-san!" came Tomoko's concerned voice from behind her. "Are you okay?"

Usagi stopped bawling and nodded slowly, the movement of her blonde fringe against Mamoru's chest producing a rhythmic brushing sound. Tears continued to roll their way down her cheeks. They tasted salty on her tongue.

"I don't want to play any more," she said quietly. Mamoru's hand rubbed the back of her head softly. "That's fine," he said, like a parent gently reassuring a child. Usagi wiped her eyes with her sleeves and turned to give the Iwamoto couple a weak smile. "I'm sorry," she said between sniffles. "I ruined your game."

Tomoko shook her head. "It's our fault," she said. "We didn't realise you'd never played before. We should have been more considerate. You're not hurt, are you?"

Usagi shook her head. "No," she said, "just embarrassed."

Tomoko smiled at her. "You shouldn't be," she said kindly. "I've seen beginners a lot worse than you."

Usagi tried to give a snort of derision, but in her current state, it sounded more like a whimper. "I find that hard to believe," she said. Tomoko shook her head. "No, I mean it!" she insisted. "I remember one girl who let go of her racquet during a serve, and it went flying over the net and hit her opponent on the head!"

"Really?" asked Usagi. Tomoko nodded with sincerity. "He had a big red lump on his head! I felt terrible about it."

"You felt terrible?" asked Usagi incredulously, "just imagine how the girl who did it felt!"

"I don't have to imagine," replied Tomoko with a sheepish grin. Understanding sparked in Usagi's eyes. "It was you?" she asked, surprised. "But you're so good!" Tomoko shrugged. "I was a beginner once, too. It's all down to practice."

Usagi giggled, her mind showing her an exaggerated re-enactment of the scene Tomoko had described, complete with cartoon birds circling the dazed man's head. She mopped the last of the tears from her face with a damp sleeve. "Sorry for being such a baby," she said gingerly.

"That's quite alright," replied Tomoko. "Right, Kazuo?"

She turned to her husband, to see that he was grimacing as if in pain, with one hand held to his forehead. Despite his obvious discomfort, he smiled – albeit rather thinly – and nodded. "Yeah, don't worry about it," he agreed. He rubbed his temples with the palm of his hand.

"Are you okay?" asked Usagi, concerned, immediately forgetting her own worries. He nodded again. "It's nothing," he said. "Just a migraine."

"A migraine?" asked Usagi. Tomoko nodded, concern showing in her eyes too. "It's a bad headache," she explained. "My husband gets them every now and again."

"Is there anything we can do?" asked Mamoru, stepping forward.

Kazuo shook his head. "No, thank-you, I just need a lie down." He bowed his head slightly, one hand still clamped to his forehead. "Sorry for running out on you," he said apologetically. The Chiba's assured him it was fine, and wished him a quick recovery.

"Do you want me to walk you back?" asked Tomoko. He smiled gratefully, but gave her a brief shake of his head. "I'm sure I'll manage," he replied. "Besides, we've got the court booked for another half an hour. No point in letting it go to waste."

Tomoko nodded hesitantly, but didn't protest. Exchanging goodbyes with the Chiba couple, Kazuo turned and exited the mesh square that surrounded the tennis court, and began to walk swiftly in the direction of the cabins.

"Is he going to be okay?" asked Usagi, her voice earnest. "He'll be fine," replied Tomoko, watching her husband as his figure disappeared from sight. She turned back to Usagi and Mamoru, and seemed to brighten somewhat. "Now, shall we continue?"

"Count me out," replied Usagi. "I think I've shown myself up enough for one day."

Sensing that it was pointless to argue with her, Tomoko nodded, before smiling courteously at Mamoru. "Then, shall we have a one-on-one match?" she suggested. He nodded. "Sounds good to me."

Usagi grinned, any trace of the tantrum just a few moments earlier erased from her features. She wrapped both of her arms around Mamoru's right elbow and rubbed her head against his shoulder. "I'll cheer you on, Mamochan!" she chirped, before prancing over to the sideline. Mamoru watched her go with a fond smile on his face, and then picked up his racquet and turned to face Tomoko, who had returned to the other side of the net.

* * *

As Mamoru and Tomoko began their game, Kazuo neared the cabins. He stopped as a bench, some distance to his right, caught his eye. It was unoccupied, and sat looking out at the horizon. The sun was beginning to set and the sky was slowly turning a pleasant shade of amber. Beneath it, the sea rippled calmly. A cool breeze ruffled his dark hair.

He decided that such a serene scene might help ease his throbbing head, and so he walked over to the bench and sat down on it. He leaned back until he was looking right up at the orange, cloudless sky, and then closed his eyes. He let the wind caress his face. Other than the breeze, the only sound was the steady lapping of water against the rocks below. He felt himself relax. Already, his migraine was starting to rescind.

"Excuse me, may I sit here?"

So unexpected was the voice, low and female, that Kazuo practically leapt off of the bench with surprise. His eyes jerked open and his head snapped around to look at the newcomer. She was standing only a couple of feet away, at the edge of the bench. He hadn't heard a single sound while he had his eyes closed, aside from the breeze and the waves. Where had she come from?

He regained his composure and looked up at her, intending to apologise for his reaction to her sudden appearance. His eyes travelled up her body, tall and slender, dressed in a long white dress. He reached her face, and his breath rushed inward in an audible gasp.

She was beautiful. Breathtakingly so.

The features on her young face were perfect. Her green eyes were like emeralds, deep and mysterious as the nearby ocean. Her long, exquisite red hair shone in the fading daylight.

"My name is Mibo Akai," she said politely as she sat down on the bench beside him. Her voice was as soothing and calm as the sound of the waves. She offered her hand, and he took it in his. The fingers were slender, ending in perfectly kept nails, the same shade of red as her hair. Her smooth skin was warm and soft to the touch. He felt his heart flutter in his chest.

"Kazuo I-Iwamoto," he stammered. She nodded as if this were something she already knew. Her powerful green eyes were locked with his, and Kazuo noticed absently that his head no longer hurt. He was still holding her hand, and she made no move to withdraw it.

He could feel himself being drawn into those eyes, like a swimmer losing a battle against the tide. Her small, pink lips formed a radiant smile. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Kazuo," she purred. The fact that she had used his given name, without a polite suffix, didn't bother him in the least.

The image of Tomoko playing tennis with the Chiba couple, only a short distance away, jumped into his mind, and he hastily removed his hand from hers and turned away. What was he doing? He had the most wonderful wife a man could want, and yet he was practically drooling all over this stranger.

He placed his eyes firmly on the distant horizon. Even though he could no longer see the girl sitting beside him, her sweet, flowery scent continued to pervade his senses.

"Something on your mind?" she asked.

"My… _wife_," he replied, placing deliberate emphasis on the word _wife_, as if confirming it in his own mind.

"Oh, you're married?" Her smile deepened. "That's wonderful."

Her scent seemed to be growing stronger now. It was overpowering. He was having to physically fight the urge to turn and look at her again. He clasped his hands together in his lap, so tightly the knuckles went white.

"Look at me."

His mind protested weakly but his body did as it was told, and he turned his head to meet those enchanting eyes once more.

"What is your wife's name?" the girl, Mibo, asked. Kazuo opened his mouth to reply, but her name wouldn't come to his lips. He frowned, slightly, without breaking eye contact. Why couldn't he think of her name? He knew what it was. Of course he did, they'd been married for over a year.

"To… to…" he stuttered slowly, sure that his wife's name began with that sound. But what came after that? He strained to produce a mental image of her. She was… she was… she was shorter than him. He knew that. Her eyes were blue, he seemed to recall.

No, that wasn't right. They were green, and she had long, red hair. He realised that it wasn't his wife he was thinking of, it was the girl sitting in front of him. He could remember her name clearly. Mibo Akai.

"Well?" asked Mibo, raising her eyebrows slightly.

Kazuo searched his mind for something, anything, about his wife. Her name, her face, her eyes, her voice, how they had met, how long they had been married, where she was at this precise moment…

"I don't know…" he finally replied, his voice barely more than a whisper. He couldn't remember anything about her. Come to think of it, what was his _own_ name? Where did he live? Where did he work? The answers eluded him.

"Are you sure you have a wife?" asked Mibo.

Her eyes were probing him, searching the depths of his soul. He tried to close his own eyes but nothing happened. Her eyes wouldn't release their hold on him. Her scent was all around him, forcing its way into his nostrils and down his throat. She was invading him.

Did he have a wife? He couldn't remember. He could feel a powerful lust growing within him, coursing through his veins, pushing all other thought away.

"Kiss me," she said softly.

He did so without hesitation, the last spark of protest within him dying.


	6. Chapter Five

A prolonged sigh of contentment escaped Usagi's throat as she lowered herself into the bathtub. The water was good and hot, and steam had risen from its surface to shroud the small bathroom in a moist layer of mist. 

She leaned her head back until it was resting on the cool porcelain of the bathtub. Her long hair had been stuffed into a pink shower cap. She raised her feet out of the water and placed them, one crossed over the other, on the opposite side of the tub. Comfortable now, she closed her eyes and let the hot water envelop her. A smile came to her lips as she relived the events of the last hour.

* * *

Following Kazuo-san's unfortunate departure, Usagi took her place on the sidelines as Mamochan and Tomoko-san played a one-on-one match. Evidently Usagi's cheering – a combination of hopping up and down like her namesake, waving her arms manically, and chanting her beloved's name – had been a great help, as Mamochan had been in top form. Tomoko-san had put up a decent fight, but in the end, Mamochan had emerged the winner.

A cheering Usagi elatedly leapt into his arms to congratulate him on his victory, although he had admitted later, as they were making their way back to the cabin, that Tomoko-san had probably been worried about her husband, which had taken her down a notch or two. Regardless, it didn't make his victory any less impressive in Usagi's eyes.

With a few minutes of court time still remaining, Mamochan placed Usagi back on the floor and handed her the tennis racquet. She stared at it for a moment, as if not quite sure what it was, and then looked back up at him, puzzlement on her face. "You want me to carry it?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No," he replied. "You're going to hit the ball."

"Wha-?" asked Usagi, but before she could object, he was ushering her onto the service line. Standing opposite her, behind the net, was Tomoko-san, her racquet in one hand and a ball in the other. Usagi turned her head to look at Mamochan, standing behind her.

"Mamochaaan…" she whined, utilising her best sulky expression. "I don't want to play!"

He nodded. "You're just going to receive one of Tomoko-san's serves, okay?"

"But I can't!" insisted Usagi. Mamochan held up his right hand and wiggled the index finger back and forth. "You can," he said, firmly, but kindly. "I know you can."

Usagi scowled and turned back to face Tomoko-san. "Stupid tennis…" she muttered under her breath. "I've already missed a hundred million balls and fallen over. How much more of this do I have to take?"

If Mamochan heard her, he didn't show it. He stepped forward so that he was standing right behind her, close enough to speak into her ear. "Now, you want to stand with your feet at shoulder-width apart. You're more stable that way."

_I need all the stability I can get_, Usagi thought glumly. She did as she was told. "Now, bend your knees slightly," said Mamochan. Usagi bent her knees so that she was in a squatting position, and was horrified to hear an amused laugh come from behind her. She straightened and spun around on her heels, glaring up at him.

"If you're going to laugh at me, I'm not doing this!" she hissed angrily. He chuckled and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said. "You looked like a frog, that's all." He gave her shoulder the slightest push, and with a heavy sigh, she turned around again.

"Now, feet apart and bend your knees, just a little," said Mamochan. Usagi followed his instructions, and this time he seemed satisfied. "Place your weight on the balls of your feet and lean forward slightly," he continued, "like you're an animal that's about to pounce."

_This is too complicated_, thought Usagi with dismay, but she did as he asked. "Hold your racquet centrally," was his next request. He reached around from behind her and guided her arms into the correct place. Usagi was beginning to feel like a stone statue, uncomfortably rooted in place, constantly in danger of tumbling from her pedestal and shattering into pieces. She hardly dared breathe.

Mamochan seemed to notice her discomfort, and gave her arm a gentle squeeze. "Relax, Usako," he said. "This is supposed to be fun, remember?"

Manga _and videogames are all the fun I need_, thought Usagi, but she didn't say so. She nodded, wishing it'd just be over already. "Okay, now, watch Tomoko-san closely," said Mamochan. "You want to watch her serve, so you know where to place yourself to best receive the ball."

_Why is he doing this to me?_ Usagi thought miserably.

Mamochan gave a wave to Tomoko-san, and she got into a similar position to the one Usagi was currently contorted into. The difference, Usagi noted, was that she didn't make it look uncomfortable and static.

"Now, all you're going to do is watch her hit the ball," Mamochan told her. "Get yourself in position so that you're in its path, and then swing the racquet and hit it right in the middle."

"It sounds hard," complained Usagi, but Mamochan shook his head. "It's only hard because you think it is." He placed a hand on her back and rubbed it softly. "I know you can do it, Usako. Now, let's get this done so we can get back to the cabin, eh?"

She nodded and bit her lip. She stared straight ahead at Tomoko-san, focusing on the ball in her left hand intently. Despite Mamochan's reassurances, she didn't really think she could hit it, but she supposed it was worth a try. If she gave up now, she'd feel worse than if she'd at least attempted it, whatever the outcome was.

She watched as Tomoko-san tossed the ball into the air and struck it with her racquet. It soared up, over the net, and then began to fall, heading for a landing just to the right of Usagi's position. "Go, Usako!" came a voice from behind her, spurring her into action. She quickly took a step to the right. Now the ball was heading right towards her. Closer and closer and-

"Swing!" called Mamochan, and she did, the racquet in her hands swinging to the left in a circular arc. A sudden sound – _purr!_ – filled the air and she felt the force of two objects colliding in her wrists, and then, to her astonishment, the ball was hurtling back the way it came, back over the net. Tomoko-san held up her racquet and the ball struck it before falling to the ground, bouncing once on the turf before being caught in her hand.

Usagi blinked a couple of times, her face devoid of expression. Had she done that?

It took a moment for the realisation to sink in. _I did it_, she thought, a grin slowly spreading across her face. _I did it!_

She span around to face her husband, who was smiling proudly. "Mamochan!" she cried happily, "I did it! I did it! Did you see?"

He nodded once. "See," he said, "I told you you could do it."

Usagi dropped the tennis racquet and ran to him, throwing her arms around him and embracing him tightly. She buried her head in his chest. "I love you, Mamochan," she mumbled into his shirt, before raising her face to look into his eyes. "I love you."

"Not bad!" came a voice from behind her, and she turned around to see Tomoko-san standing there with a smile on her face. "Like I said earlier, everybody has to start somewhere," she said, "and you took the first step tonight."

Usagi's grin widened even further. "Come on, let's do it again!" she cried, bending down to scoop up her racquet. She began to hop up and down, swinging the racquet from side to side, deflecting imaginary balls from every direction.

"I'm afraid our time is up," said Tomoko-san wistfully, glancing at her wristwatch for confirmation. "We've had the full hour."

Usagi stopped bouncing and thought for a moment, her expression neutral. A couple of seconds later, the grin returned to her face with full force and she began to bounce again.

"That's fine too!" she cried. "Come on, Mamochan!" She began to skip towards the exit, continuing to wave her racquet around, now miming a sword fight with dozens of imaginary foes.

* * *

Usagi emerged from the bathroom into the bedroom, humming happily to herself, the memory of her victory on the court playing in a permanent loop in her mind. A thick pink towel was wrapped around her body, and she held a second, smaller towel in her hands, which she was using to dry her wet hair.

She sat down on the bed, and as she continued to massage her hair with the towel, the Crystal Moon Rose caught her eye. It was still standing on the bedside table, its red head glowing like a ruby, the countless crescent-moon shapes on the stem glinting like stars in the night sky.

It always made her feel giddy, thinking about the future. She had seen it with her own eyes, proof that their love would lead the Earth into a new age of peace and prosperity. She had met the wonderful young girl who would eventually become their daughter. It was a dizzying thought, and sometimes it rather daunted her, thinking of the responsibility and the challenges that lay ahead. She was afraid, sometimes, that she wouldn't be able to face those challenges.

But…

She stopped rubbing her hair and fell silent, listening intently. She smiled as she heard him in the next room. It sounded like he was making tea.

She resumed drying her hair. As long as he was beside her, she knew she could face whatever trials the future held. Alone, perhaps, she might crumble. She wasn't strong, not like her friends, and not like Mamochan, although she always, always tried her hardest.

But just like he had been there on the tennis court tonight, to guide her, encourage her, he would be there in the future, too. Always standing by her side. Always lending his support. Together, there was nothing they couldn't accomplish.

She stood and slipped out of the bath towel, quickly dressing in a pair of loose-fitting lavender pyjamas. She retrieved her wedding ring from the bedside table and placed it back on her finger, gazing fondly at its golden surface. Like the Crystal Moon Rose, it was tangible proof of the union between them, and therefore was one of her most treasured possessions.

She plucked a hairbrush out of her suitcase – it lay open beside the bed, probably the closest to unpacking she'd get – and stood in front of the full-length mirror that was attached to the front of the wardrobe. She began to rhythmically brush her long, golden sheet of hair, as she always did after a bath. When she had finished, she re-arranged it into the usual _odango atama_. Her fingers made light work of it, and understandably so, as she'd performed the same routine every day for as long as she could remember.

Sliding her feet into a pair of pink bunny slippers, she pushed open the door and entered the living room. Mamochan had indeed made tea, and he was just placing the tray down on the table as Usagi entered. He smiled over at her.

"Tea?" he asked courteously.

Usagi nodded and crossed to the sofa, sitting down and smiling as she sank slightly into the thick cushion. Mamochan poured her a cup and then sat down beside her. The tea was delicious, as always. Usagi quickly finished the cup and placed it back on the tray. Smiling devilishly, she gently took the cup from Mamochan's hands – it was still half full, if not more so – and put it down next to hers.

"Usako?"

She leaned back and rested her head on his shoulder, rubbing it gently up and down like a cat pining for attention. He quickly understood her intent, and raised his arm to wrap it around her shoulders and pull her closer. Her head was pressed against his chest now, strong and hard. She lifted her feet from the floor and placed them on the edge of the coffee table. Her eyes drifted to a close.

"Mamochan…"

She already had their evening planned out. From here, they'd kiss for a little while, then they'd light the fireplace, to further heighten the romantic mood, and maybe kiss a little more. After that, they'd snuggle up on the couch and watch a movie on the TV. She wasn't sure what. Maybe a horror movie, so Mamochan could comfort her if she got scared. And afterwards, when it was late, they'd go to bed, and get undressed, and then they'd kiss some more, and _then_-

_Knock, knock, knock!_

The sudden burst of sound from the doorway jolted her eyes open and derailed her train of thought. Her legs involuntarily kicked out, unbalancing the table and causing the tea tray upon it to slide over the edge. With a crash, it deposited its contents on the floor. Usagi watched in horror as a dark stain began to spread across the light blue carpet.

_Knock, knock, knock!_

Usagi glared over at the door, then down at the rapidly expanding circle on the carpet, and then back at the door. Who was that, knocking so loud, this late at night? She got her answer as Mamochan got to his feet and walked over to the door, being careful to avoid the wet patch. He opened it.

Tomoko-san stood behind it, her face equal parts embarrassment and concern. "I'm sorry for bothering you," she said apologetically, "but have you seen Kazuo anywhere?"

Forgetting the spilt tea, Usagi hopped off of the sofa and joined her husband at the doorway. "I thought he went back to the cabin?" she asked. Tomoko-san nodded slowly. "Yes, that's what he said," she agreed. "I got back to the cabin but he wasn't there. I figured he'd gone for a walk, or something. He sometimes does that, says the fresh air does him good."

She swallowed loudly before continuing. "It's been almost an hour now, and he's still not back. I'm worried that…"

She trailed off. Usagi understood her completely. She didn't want to voice her concerns, in case it somehow validated them. Beside her, Mamochan was already bending down to pull on his shoes. "I'll help look for him," he said.

Usagi nodded. "Me too."

He looked up at her from his crouched stance and shook his head. "You're not dressed." He finished tying his shoelaces and stood, placing one hand on her shoulder. "You stay here, I'll help Tomoko-san find him."

Usagi shook her head firmly. "No, I'm coming with you. Six eyes are better than four, right?"

Before he could argue, Usagi stepped out of her slippers and into her own shoes. She reached for the coat rack on the back of the front door and retrieved her pink jacket, quickly shrugging it on. All ready, she turned to Tomoko-san and gave her a reassuring smile.

"Well, let's go find him, shall we?"

* * *

Tomoko reasoned that her husband might have gone for a drive, so the trio briskly trekked across the length of the resort towards the entrance. As they walked, she explained that there were several measures, from fresh air to lying down in a darkened room, that were used to relieve the acute symptoms of a migraine. Her husband usually found that fresh air eased the pain. Perhaps he had taken a drive with the windows open? It was a good place to start their search.

Arriving at the car park, they were disappointed to find the Iwamoto's car still parked in its space, untouched since earlier that day. Still, this limited his whereabouts to the resort itself, which didn't have an overly large amount of ground to cover.

They ascended the cobblestone path again, and from the dual-purpose glass building, the three went their separate ways. Tomoko went inside, thinking that perhaps her husband had doubled back to get something to eat. If not, she could ask the staff if they had seen him in the last hour. Mamoru was to search the main bulk of the resort, while Usagi was to investigate the cabin area.

Usagi dearly hoped that he had simply gone for a wander and ended up snoozing behind one of the cabins. Logically, it was the most likely scenario, but she had never been one to pay too much attention to logic. Rather, she listened to her heart, to her feelings, and at the moment she had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Something had happened, or was happening, or was about to happen. She didn't know what. After all, how many bad things could happen to a person in a place as nice and quiet as The Peaceful Circle? But still, the feeling persisted.

Doing her best to suppress it, she reached the cabin area and began her search. There were six cabins, arranged in two rows of three. Usagi walked through the thin alleyway that separated the rows, peering into the spaces between each cabin.

It was dark now, the sun having set entirely, and Usagi was a little ashamed to find herself growing increasingly nervous. Deep, thick shadows lined the cabin walls, twisting and dancing like ghostly figures. The day's gentle breeze had strengthened into a chilly wind, and she pulled her coat tighter around her. The usually relaxing sound of the sea, the waves crashing and breaking only a stone's throw away, had taken on a slightly ominous edge. The feeling of foreboding increased.

_We shouldn't have split up_, thought Usagi, before chastising herself for being so childish.

Wherever Kazuo-san was, he wasn't in the spaces between the cabins. Usagi stepped out from between the last two, glad to be standing under the pale moonlight again. She turned to the right and began to head around the cabins. Only a short distance ahead of her was the stone wall that surrounded the resort. Beyond it she could see the sea, black as the sky, its surface churning and heaving like some kind of writhing, living being.

She and Mamochan had spent many wonderful nights staring out at just such a view, but now, alone, dressed only in her thin pyjamas and a summer jacket, it took on a sinister quality. She shuddered and began to walk the length of the cabins, inspecting each one. The first two were dark and silent, but the last one caught her eye: there was a dim light coming from one of the windows. Since all the cabins had the same layout, she knew it was the bedroom.

Usagi climbed the steps to the front door. It was terribly rude of her at this hour, she knew, but she wanted to ask the resident if they had seen Kazuo-san in the last hour. After all, he had left in the direction of the cabins. Even so, she hesitated before knocking, convincing herself that it was because she didn't want to upset the person inside, and nothing more.

Finally, she decided to knock lightly on the door. Loud enough for the person inside to hear, if they were still awake, but not loud enough to disturb them if they had already gone to sleep.

There was no response for a few moments, so Usagi knocked again, ever-so-slightly louder than the first time. This time, a light went on in the main room of the cabin, and a moment later, the door opened. Usagi raised her eyes to the occupant's face to apologise for knocking at such a late hour, but the words died in her throat.

Green eyes stared coldly at her, as dark and tempestuous as the ocean behind Usagi's back. They belonged to the impossibly beautiful face of a girl only slightly older than Usagi. Her long hair was the colour of fire. Her slender body was dressed in a thin white robe.

Usagi had seen her earlier in the day, sitting by herself on the bench overlooking the sea. The same chill that had stung her spine then revisited her now, stronger than before under the weight of the girl's bottomless stare.

"Yes?" asked the girl, in a voice as cold as her expression. Usagi plucked up the courage to speak, and said in as apologetic a manner as she could muster, "I'm sorry for bothering you, but I'm looking for somebody."

The girl said nothing, and her expression didn't change. Usagi went on, the unease that she felt creeping uninvited into her voice. "Um, he's a man named Kazuo Iwamoto-san, he's-"

"I don't know anybody by that name," said the girl sharply, interrupting her.

Usagi nodded nervously. "Well, that's okay. I was just wondering if you'd seen him, but-"

"I haven't seen him," interrupted the girl again. "I'm alone."

Usagi opened her mouth to speak, but before she could even form a syllable, the door was slammed in her face. Seconds later, the light in the main room went out. Usagi turned around and walked quickly down the wooden steps to the ground. At any other time she would have been furious to be treated with such disrespect, but in this case, she was relieved to be free of the woman's piercing gaze.

She began to walk back in the direction she had came, but stopped as she passed under the bedroom window. It was slightly ajar, and she could hear voices from inside. She stepped closer, looking up at the dim square of light, straining her ears to listen. She couldn't make out any words, but there were definitely two voices. One belonged to a woman, no doubt the girl that had answered the door, but the other voice was male.

Usagi frowned. A man's voice?The girl had definitely said she was alone. She paused for a moment, processing the information. The girl was lying, that much was for certain. But why? Did the man's voice belong to Kazuo-san? If it did, why would he be there?

She decided to find out. She climbed the steps to the front door and knocked again, not bothering to be discreet this time. Again, the light in the main room came on, and then the door opened. The girl stood behind it, and now there was undisguised anger in her eyes.

"What do you want now?" she asked shortly.

"I want to know who's with you," demanded Usagi. The girl frowned at her as if she were an insect that she'd discovered in her food. "I already told you," she hissed. "I'm alone."

"You're lying," countered Usagi, glaring right back at her. It took all of her willpower not to turn her head and break eye contact. "I heard you talking to a man." The girl gave a short grunt of humourless laughter, and shook her head. "You are mistaken," she said, an icy, threatening undertone in her voice. "I am alone."

"We'll see about that!" replied Usagi, and before the girl could stop her, she had ducked under her arm and stepped into the main room. "Forgive my intrusion," she said impertinently as she quickly kicked off her shoes and strode towards the bedroom door on the other side of the room.

"What do you think you're doing!" came the girls' outraged voice from behind her, but Usagi ignored it. She reached the bedroom door and flung it open.

Her smile froze.


	7. Chapter Six

The colour rapidly drained from Usagi's face as her wide eyes met with those of the man seated on the bed in front of her. They were empty, their pupils dull, without a glimmer of recognition within them. It was unclear as to whether he even recognised her. 

"K-Kazuo-san…" murmured Usagi quietly. He was sitting on the bed, wearing nothing save for a pair of blue boxer shorts. Her mind analysed this fact from every angle, trying to find some rational explanation for it, but no matter how she twisted it, she always came to the same conclusion.

_Kazuo-san is… cheating on Tomoko-san?_

She didn't want to believe it, but what other explanation was there?

"Kazuo-san, what are you doing here?" she asked earnestly, hoping desperately that he would give her a reason that didn't involve adultery. If Kazuo-san had such a reason, he didn't share it. He didn't respond to her question, but merely continued to stare at her, the blank look in his eyes suggesting that he was not looking _at_ her, but rather _through _her.

A sharp pang of anger jabbed at Usagi's chest and she narrowed her eyes into an outraged scowl. "I can't believe this!" she cried. "Telling your wife you have a headache and then coming here to cheat on her!"

She folded her arms across her chest and shook her head, slowly. What would Tomoko-san do when she found out about this? She had been so concerned about him when he had left with his "migraine". The true source of his departure would crush her. She pointed one finger directly at him, her eyes sharp as daggers. "I think you're disgusting!" she yelled.

Her words seemed to have some effect on him, and his head suddenly jerked to the side, as if some unseen force had been holding him still until that moment. He looked around, seemingly confused, taking in the bedroom, and then looked down at his own semi-naked body. Finally, his eyes moved back up to meet Usagi's, and this time they were not empty. They were full: of fear, and guilt, and sorrow. His mouth opened and closed wordlessly a few times.

"Usagi-san…" he said finally, his voice trembling. "I… I…"

"How could you do this!" Usagi shrieked, her eyes shining. "You have a wonderful wife who loves you! Would you throw all that away for a… a…"

The words in her mind were _a sordid affair_, but she couldn't bring herself to say them. The silence was filled by Kazuo-san's voice. "Please, Usagi-san!" he said pleadingly. "I didn't… I don't know what… I just…" He trailed off, unable to put an end to any of those sentences.

A noise behind Usagi caused her to spin around on her heels, and she came face to face with the red-haired girl. She was smiling coldly. There was satisfaction in it, if not warmth. "Well, it looks like you've found us out," she said nonchalantly, as if discussing something as trivial as next week's weather.

"Then it's true!" Usagi cried. "You and Kazuo-san are-"

She was interrupted as the girl brought a hand to her mouth and chuckled without mirth. "Of course we are!" she said, in a tone one would use to address a small child. "What other explanation could there be?"

Hearing movement behind her, Usagi turned her head to see Kazuo-san pulling on his trousers. Having done so, he stood and walked over to them. Usagi stepped aside to let him take her place before the flame-haired girl, whose face still wore an icy smile.

"I don't know what you did to me," shouted Kazuo-san, his voice quaking with anger, "but I love my wife! I would never do anything to jeopardise our marriage!"

The girl rolled her eyes, unimpressed with his machismo. "That's what they all say," she replied bitterly. "All you men are the same. Worthless scum. No better than dogs." She thought for a moment, before shaking her head. "No, I take that back. Dogs are loyal to the end. Men are not."

"How dare you!" fumed Kazuo-san. "Get out of my way!"

The smile on the girl's face disappeared. "Shut up," she replied severely, and raised her hand into the air. Usagi watched numbly as the hand swung downwards. It only took her a second to complete the motion, but to Usagi it seemed much longer, as if she were watching in slow-motion.

The hand slammed into Kazuo-san's face and he hurtled into the air and flew backwards across the room, as if caught in the perimeter of an explosion. He slammed into the wall above the bed and bounced off, landing face-down on the mattress. He lay still and silent, alive but unconscious.

Usagi looked from his motionless body to the girl, her eyes wide. Alarm bells were going off in her head. _This girl isn't what she appears to be. _The girl was looking at her now, malicious intent visible in her frozen green eyes.

"I'm afraid," she said indifferently, "you've seen too much." She took a step toward Usagi. "You'll have to die now."

"Wh-who are you?" asked Usagi as she slowly backed away. She quickly ran out of space, her back pressing up against the bedroom wall. Her eyes darted about for a means of escape. Aside from the window, which was high on the wall behind the bed and looked too small for a person to fit through, there were two doors: the door that led to the bathroom, and the door that led back to the main room of the cabin.

The bathroom door was on the other side of the room. She'd have to go either over or around the bed to get to it. Access to the door to the main room was restricted by the advancing girl. Neither of them looked like viable escape routes.

_Just keep her talking,_ thought Usagi, trying to ignore the cold slug of fear in the pit of her stomach. _Keep her talking until I can escape._

Thankfully, the girl stopped a few paces away. "If you must know who I am," she said, "then I'll tell you. To those pathetic creatures," – she gestured towards Kazuo-san to clarify – "my name is Mibo Akai. But since you've discovered my little secret, I'll tell you my real name."

Her hands moved down to her waist, her fingers wrapping around the tie of her white silk robe. She pulled at the loose knot and it came undone, and she let the garment slip from her shoulders to land in a pool around her feet. She wore very little beneath it, only a small, tight bra and panties that left little to the imagination. They were as red as her fiery hair, a contrast to her milky-white skin.

"I am the Red Widow," she announced grandly, as if it were some kind of royal title. "I drink the blood of a broken heart."

Usagi frowned as understanding came to her. "Now I get it," she said, glaring accusingly at the so-called 'Red Widow'. "You tricked Kazuo-san, you hypnotised him, so you could destroy his marriage!"

"Tricked?" replied the Widow with a shake of her head. "No, no, I merely expose the truth."

"What truth?" asked Usagi tersely. The Widow held up a finger and spoke as if imparting some ancient secret. "The truth that love is a lie, a shared pretence."

"You're wrong!" insisted Usagi, more upset than angered. "Love is a beautiful thing!" The Widow snorted derisively. "Ha! A rose is beautiful too, for a time, until it withers and dies."

"True love _never_ dies!" cried Usagi, her hands clasped together and pressed against her chest. "True love, between family, between friends, between lovers, is stronger than anything else! True love is what allows us to keep on going, even when it seems there is no hope for the future!"

"Enough!" hissed the Widow. She took another step forward, and Usagi noticed that her hands and feet were beginning to glow with crimson light. The points of light began to move, travelling across her body, up towards her face. They met at her lips and the light intensified until it burned Usagi's eyes. Out of reflex she closed them. A moment later she felt hands on her body, gripping her hips and pushing her backwards, pinning her against the wall and holding her in place.

Usagi opened her eyes to see that the burning light was only inches in front of her, and getting closer. The girls' head was slowly but inexorably craning forwards, towards Usagi's own. _A kiss of death, _thought Usagi, and the thought spurred her into action. A second before the Widow's lips pressed against her own she ducked and bent forward, putting all of her weight behind her shoulder and shoving it forwards.

It wasn't much, but the Widow was taken off-guard and stumbled to one side, over towards the bed. Seeing her chance, Usagi charged out of the bedroom and through the main room, heading towards the front door. She had to get back to her own cabin. Somewhere among the crumpled clothes and _manga_ in her suitcase was her broach, and if she could get to it, she could stop this monster before she did any more damage.

She reached the door and her sweaty hands grasped the doorknob and twisted it, before pulling back. Nothing happened. The door didn't budge. It had been locked. She span around to see the Red Widow emerge from the bedroom. Her lips, still glowing with unearthly red light, twisted into a smirk.

"I'm afraid you won't be leaving," she said. The smirk abruptly vanished. "_Nobody_ leaves me."

Usagi glanced desperately around the cabin. All of the windows were locked, giving her no way to escape. She looked back at the Widow, to see her raise a hand to her mouth. She slowly kissed the tips of her fingers, and the intense light on her lips was transferred over to them. She raised her hand into the air, bending her elbow back as if preparing to pitch a ball.

Then, she flung her hand forwards, and the light was flying through the air towards Usagi's head. She watched as it approached, a burning light in the shape of a pair of lips. Just before it hit, she threw herself to one side, and the deadly kiss slammed into the door where she had stood a moment earlier, leaving a black, smoking crater like the signature of a twisted love letter.

Usagi landed less than gracefully, banging her elbows and knees painfully on the floor. In the seconds it took her to get to her feet the Widow was upon her again. Her hands grasped out, trying to get a grip on her. Usagi felt the girl's fingers brush against one of her long ponytails, and she jerked her head away and ducked under the probing arm.

Before she could escape, however, both of the girls' hands seized the collar of her jacket and began to pull her backwards. Usagi redoubled her efforts, straining with all of her strength to get away. She heard the sound of fabric tearing, and with it the tension on the back of her neck lessened. Then, with a loud, harsh, ripping sound – _rrrrrrrrpppppp – _she was free. A few paces ahead of her was the sofa, and she hopped onto it and turned around to face her attacker. She frowned as she watched the Widow carelessly discard the torn remains of the pink coat.

"You monster!" she cried, furious. "That was my favourite jacket!"

The Widow charged at her again and dived through the air, arms outstretched, heading for Usagi's legs. Usagi jumped out of the way just in time. She landed on top of the coffee table. The Widow slammed into the sofa, which tipped over backwards. Usagi stared down at her, sprawled in a heap beneath the heavy brown couch, and grinned.

"Missed me!" she sang, doing a little victory dance. She regretted it immediately, as her feet – both of them left, according to that meanie Rei-chan – became tangled and she lost her balance. She teetered back and forth precariously on the small table, windmilling her arms to try and regain some stability. Just as she had accepted the fall as an inevitability, her equilibrium returned and she was standing still again.

"Phew," she sighed. She wiped a hand across her brow, relieved.

_Crrrk._

Usagi realised a split-second too late what the cracking, creaking sound beneath her feet was. With a crunch of breaking wood, the little coffee table split neatly down the middle, and Usagi crashed to the floor, banging her ribs against one of the table halves' sharp edges. The thin cotton of her pyjamas did nothing to shield the blow, and she wrapped her arms around herself, hugging herself tightly, wincing with pain.

The Red Widow had disengaged herself from the couch and was back on her feet. Before Usagi could get up, she was standing above her. The Widow crouched, knees bent, so that she was sitting on Usagi's stomach. Usagi brought her hands up to push her away, but they were grabbed and pinned against the ground. Usagi grimaced at the pressure on her wrists. The girl was deceptively strong.

The Widow leaned forward until their chests were touching. Usagi could feel her hot breath on her cheeks as she spoke.

"Nobody can resist me!" she seethed, angrily.

Usagi's face twisted into a look of disgust. "You make me sick!" she cried. "You should be ashamed of yourself! What kind of woman runs around wearing just a bra, anyway!" The Widow smirked. Her eyes moved down to examine the gentle curves beneath Usagi's pyjama top. "At least I have need of one," she responded icily.

As in the bedroom, the tips of her fingers and toes began to glow red. As the light quickly travelled across her body, Usagi's eyes darted in every direction, looking for something to defend herself with. She was rewarded with the sight of the cast-iron poker for the fireplace only a foot or so away. She had to get hold of it, somehow, but her arms were still pinned firmly to the ground.

The four points of light had reached their destination now, and the Widow's lips were once again glowing with supernatural power. She lowered her face towards Usagi's slowly. "Kiss me…" she implored, a demand rather than a request.

Usagi turned her head to one side, to give herself a little more time, and spread her legs outwards. Her knees slammed into the Widow's feet, driving them apart. Unbalanced, the Widow released her grip on Usagi's arms and used her hands to steady herself against the floor. It was all that Usagi needed. She grabbed the fireplace poker in her right hand, raised it up, and brought it crashing down on the girl's bare back.

A sharp yelp of agony squeezed from the Widow's throat and her body went limp. Usagi pushed her away and slithered out from under her, and got back to her feet. The Widow's paralysis didn't last long, and she got to her knees, glaring up at Usagi with viridian murder in her eyes. She brought a hand to her glowing lips and brandished the fatal kiss like a grenade. "You WILL kiss me!" she screeched.

She hurled the kiss in Usagi's direction. Usagi watched it approach. It reminded her of earlier that night, on the tennis court. She remembered the advice Mamochan had given her, and quickly parted her feet and bent her knees, and held the poker as if it were a tennis racquet. The red lips grew closer, and closer, and-

"_Swing!"_

"Kiss THIS!" Usagi yelled, and swung the poker in a circular arc. It collided with the floating kiss, which bounced off and flew away across the room, hitting the far wall and fizzling uselessly for a second or two before dying out.

_Twice in one night, _thought Usagi. But before she could celebrate, the Widow was back on her feet and charging again. Usagi turned and ran across the room. Ahead of her was the bedroom. She sprinted into it and slammed the door behind her. Half a second later, the Widow crashed into it. The impact caused the door to shake in its hinges. Usagi managed to hold it steady long enough to locate a sliding bolt by the doorknob. She quickly pulled it across, locking the door.

For a few moments, the Widow twisted and jerked the doorknob from side to side, trying to force the door open. Her efforts proved useless, the lock holding it in place. She then began to pound on the door with her fists. Each blow caused the door to judder, but despite the Widow's greater-than-average strength, it showed no signs of breakage. _Thank goodness these are expensive cabins, _thought Usagi. The pounding continued for a few moments more, and then stopped. No sound came from the other side of the door.

Usagi allowed a sigh of relief to escape her throat. At least now she'd have a little time to think, to plan her next move. She turned around to see Kazuo-san still lying face down on the bed. She went to him and rolled him over onto his back, and then slapped his cheeks lightly, calling his name.

He didn't stir, didn't move. Usagi placed a fingertip on his left eyelid and pulled it up, to reveal nothing but white beneath. The pupil was rolled up into his head. He was well and truly out for the count. She sighed and looked around the room, looking for some means of escape. Her eyes came to rest on the door that led to the ensuite bathroom.

Her eyes widened fearfully.

She rushed over to the door and flung it open. She raced into the bathroom and over to the other door, the one that led out to the main room of the cabin. She quickly slid the bolt across, locking it, and then pressed her back against it, breathing a sigh of relief. How had she forgotten that? Just like in her cabin, the bedroom could be reached from both the main room and the bathroom. She'd been lucky that the Widow hadn't gotten in.

A potential crisis averted, she turned and headed back into the bedroom. She didn't notice the figure crouched in the bathtub, her scowling face and long red hair obscured by the shower curtain.

In the bedroom, Usagi looked around for a way out. Since she couldn't go back into the main room, it looked like the window was the only escape route. She looked up at it doubtfully. It was tiny, and it would be difficult to reach, as it was near the ceiling. Usagi wasn't sure if she'd fit through it, but she supposed it was worth a try. There would be no chance of getting Kazuo-san through, especially as he was unconscious and looked to be that way for a while yet, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was getting back to her own cabin and retrieving her broach.

The window was locked and the key wasn't apparent, so Usagi retrieved the poker from the floor beside the door, where she had dropped it as she entered. She climbed up onto the bed, being careful not to tread on – or trip over – the still form of Kazuo-san. She tightened her grip on the poker, preparing to swing it upwards, and then paused. Breaking a window was a criminal act, wasn't it?

She paused for a moment, weighing up the pros and cons. _Usagi-chan, you're a soldier of justice, not a burglar! _said a stern voice inside her head. It belonged to her cat, Luna.

_Oh, come on!_ said a jovial second voice. This one belonged to her friend Minako-chan. _Just break it! It's the only way out, and I'm sure it wouldn't cost THAT much money to replace it!_

Usagi briefly considered both points of view, and then decided to side with Minako-chan. It was her best, and only, method of escape, and she – that is to say, Mamochan – could pay for the damages when this was over. She was sure he wouldn't mind.

She readied herself for the impact, lowering her head to avoid getting shards of glass in her eyes, and swung the poker. It hit the window and bounced off, without making a dent. Usagi tried again, and a third time, but nothing happened. The window was made of reinforced glass, and she didn't have the strength or leverage to smash it. Disappointed, she turned around and stepped off of the bed. She placed the poker on the bedside table.

_Now what?_ she thought, that little sliver of fear making its presence known in her stomach again. She wished her friends were there with her. Together, they could face any obstacle and come out unscathed and smiling. But even if she'd had her communication watch with her, Usagi lamented, the Peaceful Circle was a long way away from their homes. They wouldn't be able to reach her.

_This is no good_, Usagi thought to herself. _I've got to keep trying. I can't give up. _She considered the situation. It occurred to her that she hadn't heard the Red Widow in a few minutes now. What was she doing? Was she waiting out in the main room? Or had she left the cabin, to ambush her if she tried to escape?

She walked over to the door, intending to look through the keyhole to try and spot the dreadful girl, but stopped as something sharp dug into the sole of her foot. With a little gasp of surprise, she lifted her foot and looked down. The white silk robe that the Widow had worn lay on the floor before her feet. Frowning, she leaned down and picked it up. Scrunching it up in her hands, she could feel something small and sharp inside it. Her hand found a pocket and reached inside, and pulled the small object out.

She grinned as she saw what it was. It was a little silver key. More specifically, it was the key to the front door. If she could just get back into the main room, she could unlock the door and escape. She held the key in her fist in the same way that she used to hold the last 100 yen coin of her allowance, and stepped over to the door. She bent down and peered through the keyhole. It afforded a wide view of the living room, and Usagi was relieved to see that it was empty. The Red Widow, wherever she was, was nowhere in sight. She supposed she could be hiding behind the overturned sofa, or even inside the tall fireplace, but this was her best chance of escape and she intended to use it.

She slid the lock back across, twisted the doorknob, and slowly, quietly opened the door. She carefully peaked out into the room, half expecting the Widow to come charging at her, screaming, from some unseen corner. But the room was still empty, the Widow nowhere in sight.

Quickly but quietly, Usagi paced across the room, stepping over the broken remnants of the coffee table, and over to the door. She uncurled her hand and retrieved the key from her damp palm, and-

"Drop it."

She froze, her blood chilling at the sound of the Widow's voice.

"Turn around."

Usagi did as she was told, and gasped as she saw the Widow standing before the open doorway to the bedroom. With one arm she was supporting the unconscious body of Kazuo-san. At the end of her other arm, her hand glowed with red light. She had another fatal kiss on her fingertips. Her eyes were narrowed into slits.

"Toss the key over here," ordered the Red Widow. "Or I'll kiss this pathetic man goodbye."

Usagi didn't pause to weigh up the options. She could probably escape, but she had no doubt that the Widow would indeed kill Kazuo-san. She tossed the key across the room, and it landed just before the Widow's feet. The girl roughly dropped Kazuo-san to the floor and then leaned down and picked it up. She placed it securely inside her bra, and then looked back up at Usagi.

"Well, you know what they say," she said wistfully, glancing at her glowing hand. "A kiss is a terrible thing to waste."

She hurled the kiss across the room, in Usagi's direction. Usagi ducked just in time to avoid it. The flaming pair of lips slammed into the wall behind her and dissolved. Usagi stood, and the Widow was once again advancing on her.

"Please!" exclaimed Usagi with dismay. "There has to be another way to resolve this!"

The Widow ignored her and continued to advance. Usagi backed away, treading a slow circle around the room. "Violence is never a solution!" she pleaded, as she backtracked past the sofa. "Isn't there a way we can-"

Without warning she lost her balance and tumbled backwards, landing hard on her backside. With her attention focused on the Widow in front of her, she'd tripped over Kazuo-san. She continued to move backwards, this time crawling with her hands, heading back towards the front of the room. The Widow maintained her slow pursuit.

"Please!" Usagi begged. "I don't want to fi-"

This time, her sentence was cut off as the Red Widow suddenly dived at her. She landed on top of Usagi, knocking the wind out of her and sending her sprawling to the ground. In a second, the Widow was holding her hands down, painfully driving her wrists into the carpeted floor. Her knees pinned Usagi's legs to the ground.

Usagi struggled to get free, twisting her body this way and that, trying to move her arms and legs, but it was no good. She couldn't move, couldn't get free. The Widow watched her fight with an amused smile.

"It's no good," she said. "You can't get away now."

Usagi's eyes widened with terror as the girl's hands and feet began to glow again. "Let me go!" she cried, tears coming to her eyes. "There is a man, a man that I…" She trailed off, and now the tears were flowing freely across her cheeks, dripping onto the carpet. "A man that I love… more than anything else in the world…"

She looked up at the Widow. Through her tear-streaked vision she could see the four points of light converge upon her lips. "Please," Usagi beseeched, "I don't want to leave him, not now. Not yet."

The Widow merely shook her head in dismissal, as if listening to the anguished cries of an imaginative child. "It's best that you die now," she said softly, with almost a note of kindness in her voice. "While you still believe in such childish things as love and trust. Before you fully realise the truth, as I was made to."

"Please… don't…" whispered Usagi, but the burning lips of the Red Widow were already descending upon her. The light was searing. She closed her eyes, causing thick, heavy tear droplets to squeeze through her eyelashes. Even with her eyes closed, she could still see that awful red light, growing brighter and brighter, surrounding her. It made her feel cold. Cold and empty.

_Is this how she feels all of the time? _wondered Usagi sadly. _What a terrible way to live._

The light grew stronger still. Usagi could feel the Widow's breath on her tongue.

_Mamochan_, she thought, in the last moment before the Widow's lips touched her own.

_I know we'll be together again, someday…_


	8. Chapter Seven

In the seemingly infinite moment before the red darkness swallowed her whole, a cascade of images flowed through Usagi's mind. A beautiful little girl with pink hair and red eyes, with a cheery smile on her face. _Chibiusa. _More smiles, on a multitude of pretty faces that were as familiar to Usagi as her own. _Minna. _And finally, his handsome face, gazing at her with those dazzlingly clear blue eyes. 

_Mamochan…_

Somewhere behind her, Usagi heard a loud crash, the sound of two pieces of wood being violently smashed together. The suddenness of the noise caused her to open her eyes. She struggled to understand what she saw before her. Rather than the burning red lips of the Red Widow, she was looking at the head of a red rose, in full bloom.

She looked up, and now she saw the Widow's face. She wasn't looking at Usagi, instead staring in the direction the crashing sound had come from, an expression of shocked surprise on her face. Usagi looked back down, and she realised that the rose was poking out of the girls' bra, it's long green stem nestled snugly between her breasts.

"Get away from her," came a voice from behind Usagi, a male voice that was both soft and stern. Usagi recognised it, just as she recognised the red rose. Her heart skipped joyfully in her chest, and she felt her body filling with strength again, the terrible coldness she had felt before vanishing immediately.

She pushed the bewildered Widow aside with ease and stood, and turned to look at the doorway. The locked door had been smashed open, and behind it, silhouetted against the dark night outside, stood a tall man wearing a black suit. An elegant tuxedo, with a white shirt and bow tie and gold buttons. A long black cape with red lining flowed out behind him, dancing with the sea breeze. His hands wore white gloves, and his right arm was still curled, the elbow bent, from the motion of throwing the rose.

The man's black hair was mostly hidden beneath a tall top hat, and his eyes – those dazzlingly clear, blue eyes – were obscured by a white eye mask, like one would wear at a masked ball.

"Tuxedo Kamen-sama!" squealed Usagi with delight, and she ran to him and threw her arms around him, burying her head in his chest. He returned her embrace, his strong arms enfolding her. "Usako," he said softly, his voice abounding with relief. "Thank goodness you're safe."

Usagi removed her head from his chest and looked up at him. "I am now…" she murmured.

"Who the hell are you!" came an outraged voice from behind her. Usagi span around, to see the Red Widow standing there. In her relief and delight, Usagi had almost forgotten about her. She angrily plucked the rose from between her breasts and tossed it to the ground, crushing it beneath her foot. She took a step towards them, both her body and her voice shaking with anger. "Answer me, pathetic man!"

Tuxedo Kamen-sama regarded her with scorn, his arms still wrapped protectively around Usagi. "I am Tuxedo Kamen," he proclaimed, "and I oppose those who blight love and who seek to crush the spirit of a maiden's carefree heart."

He looked down at Usagi. "Usako," he said urgently, quietly so that the Widow could not hear. "Go and get your broach. I'll keep her occupied until you get back."

Usagi turned her head to look at the Widow, concerned. She had seen the effect this dreadful woman could have on a man, even one like Kazuo-san who dearly loved and honoured his wife. She looked back up at Tuxedo Kamen-sama. "Are you sure?"

"There's no time to argue!" he insisted. "Go!"

She nodded, giving him one last squeeze before reluctantly releasing her hold on him. "Be careful, okay?"

He smiled and nodded once, and then turned his attention to the Red Widow, who was watching him intently. Usagi stole one last look at him, at his handsome masked face, and then she charged through the door and bounded down the wooden steps to the ground, and took off running in the direction of their cabin. The grass was cold beneath her bare feet but she hardly noticed, the only thought in her mind being to retrieve her broach.

She crashed through the front door of the cabin and ran through the main room, almost stepping on the teacups she had knocked over earlier. She reached the bedroom door and flung it open, dashing inside. Her suitcase sat unpacked beside the bed, and she tore into it like a ravenous wolf, reaching in with both hands and pulling out skirts and shoes and underwear, before tossing them in every direction. The heavy marriage book that Ami-chan had given to her as a wedding present was in there too – Usagi had been planning to (attempt to) read it over the weekend – and she pulled it out and dropped it to the floor beside her.

Finally, she found what she was looking for, underneath the little silk negligee that Minako-chan had given her. Like the book, she had been planning to make use of it during their stay at the resort. Usagi tossed it onto the bed behind her and then pulled out a large broach. It was heart-shaped, gold in colour, embellished with white wings and adorned with glittering jewels. The 'Eternal Moon Article'. She gripped it tightly in her hand and stood, turning back to face the door.

She stopped as her eyes caught a glimmering shape. The Crystal Moon Rose, standing on the bedside table, the head glowing a radiant crimson. A gift from the future, from Neo Queen Serenity, her future self, and King Endymion, her husband.

Usagi took one look at it, and then turned and bolted out of the door, her determination growing with every step. She'd left Tuxedo Kamen-sama alone with the Red Widow, and if she didn't hurry, the future might change forever and that wonderful gift, and many other things besides, would never come to be.

* * *

"Be careful, okay?" asked Usako, her gentle voice rife with concern. Tuxedo Kamen smiled softly and nodded once, and then focused his attention on the girl in the red underwear. Behind him, he heard Usako exit, the sound of her footsteps quickly rescinding.

"Is she your lover?" asked the girl coldly. Her eyes, dark green and fathomless, threatened to bore holes in his mask. "My wife," replied Tuxedo Kamen. This seemed to amuse the girl. She smiled and shook her head slowly. "Have you ever hurt her?" she asked, her tone suggesting that she already knew the answer.

"I would never hurt her," replied Tuxedo Kamen sharply. "I love her more than anything else in this world."

"Ha!" snorted the girl, disbelieving. "You lie. You're all the same, every one of you. If you haven't hurt her yet, then you will, in time."

"_Never_," he stated fixedly. "And to suggest otherwise is folly."

"Folly, is it?" asked the girl, raising her eyebrows. She walked towards him slowly, her slender hips swaying with each step. Tuxedo Kamen kept his eyes trained on hers, refusing to look at her toned, scarcely-clad body. A mischievous smile was painted on her face as she stopped in front of him and placed a hand on his chest.

"I'll show you," she whispered. Her hand moved from his chest and reached up to caress his face. She stroked his cheek tenderly, with soft, gentle fingers. Then she reached further up and gently took hold of his mask between her thumb and forefinger, and delicately lifted it away. She dropped it to the ground, and stared into his sapphire-blue eyes.

Tuxedo Kamen felt his heart do a lazy somersault in his chest. Her eyes were deep, impenetrable. Enchanting. Her face was as beautiful as any model's he'd ever seen. Her floral scent crept up his nostrils and filled his head with stars. He felt dizzy, almost intoxicated as his eyes and nose drank in her beauty, but he found himself unable to look away.

"Kiss me, handsome stranger," purred the girl, her face slowly drawing nearer to his.

_Usako…_

Just before her lips touched his, he turned his head away fiercely, as if catching a direct glimpse of the sun. A low chuckle slid into his ear. "What's the matter?" asked the girl, revelling in his discomfort.

"My wife…" replied Tuxedo Kamen. "I love my wife."

The girl placed her hands on his cheeks and turned his head to look at her. "Don't be silly," she said. "I don't believe I told you my name. It's Mibo Akai."

_Mibo Akai. _The name repeated itself in Tuxedo Kamen's head. _A beautiful name, for a beautiful girl._ He could feel his mind beginning to slip away, his control beginning to falter. Her body, nubile and lithe, was pressed up against his. Her hands, on his face, were warm and balmy. Her scent was everywhere. A dark desire was rising in him, chasing away logic, stamping down reason.

"Don't fight me," breathed Mibo. Tuxedo Kamen watched as her lips ascended towards his.

"_Mamochan!"_

The voice, high and joyful and tinkling like a bell, cut through the dense fog that had crowded his head. A flurry of images took its place, dancing rapidly behind his eyes.

Usako, chewing on one of her blonde ponytails.  
Usako, her brow furrowed as she leaned over a study guide.  
Usako, asleep in their bed, her cherubic face illuminated softly by the gentle moonlight from the window.  
Usako, grinning widely and hopping up and down, excitedly relaying some important news.  
Usako, her celestial blue eyes overflowing with tears, her arms outstretched, waiting to be comforted.  
Usako, engaged in a fierce argument with their future daughter, Chibiusa.  
Usako, breathtakingly beautiful in a white wedding dress, her hands linked with his, her mouth opening to speak two short words.

_Usako…_

"NO!" cried Tuxedo Kamen, placing his hands on the shoulders of Mibo Akai and shoving her away with all of his strength. She stumbled backwards a few steps before losing her balance and tumbling to the ground. She stared up at him, mouth agape.

"How could you…" She trailed off. Tuxedo Kamen stooped slightly to retrieve his mask from the floor. He replaced it on the bridge of his nose and turned to face her, his hidden eyes looking down at her with disdain.

"I love my wife," he reiterated. "And I will _never_ hurt her."

The girl scrambled to her feet. Her face, contorted with rage, was no longer beautiful. Her features were perfectly sculpted, but there was no warmth in her eyes. The youthful vitality, the boundless energy that he admired so in Usako, was absent. Beneath the surface she was ugly and twisted. A monster. He wondered how he had seen her differently.

"NOBODY can resist me!" boomed Mibo. "NONE OF YOU! You're all the same, every damn one of you! You only care about yourselves! You only care about what you can take!"

"Perhaps," replied Tuxedo Kamen, "you should take a look in the mirror. You might find what you're looking for."

These words struck a chord with the girl. Her face twisted into a mask of hatred. "YOU BASTARD!" she screamed. "I won't have one of YOU look down on me! I WON'T!"

Tuxedo Kamen watched, perturbed, as her hands and feet began to glow, and four points of red light began to travel along her body, growing brighter and brighter. He crouched slightly, preparing to move at a moment's notice, readying himself for her attack.

The lights congregated on her lips and intensified further. It took all of his resolve to keep from looking away. The girl raised a hand to her lips and kissed her fingers, and the light flowed onto them, retaining the shape of her mouth. She pulled her arm back, apparently to throw the "kiss of death" in his direction.

"Stop right there!"

The voice cried out just as Mibo swung her arm forwards. The distraction caused her throw to go wide and the burning light kissed the wall three feet to the left of Tuxedo Kamen's head. Both he and the girl turned to the doorway.

Usako stood there, her eyes narrowed and trained on Mibo like an attack dog eyeing up an intruder. She held the Eternal Moon Article in her right hand. Her eyes flickered to the right, to where Tuxedo Kamen stood. "Sorry to keep you waiting!" she said, a smirk on her lips.

She looked back at Mibo Akai, and the smirk disappeared. "As for you…"

She extended her arm, raising the golden, winged broach into the air.

"Moon Eternal!" she yelled. "Make-Up!"


	9. Chapter Eight

"Moon Eternal! Make-Up!" 

As Usagi spoke these words, the Eternal Moon Article opened. Inside, in the centre of a beautiful, symmetrical pattern of colourful shapes – among them feathers, wings and ribbons – was a star-shaped crystal. It began to glow a gorgeous, heavenly pink. The light from this crystal, the '_Maboroshi no Ginzuishou_', the holy stone of her ancient kingdom, spread outwards, pulsing and resonating, until it bathed her entire body.

Her pyjamas shimmered like a mirage and then faded away, and she wore nothing but the light. Usagi closed her eyes as she felt the incredible power flowing through her. Power, not just from the _Ginzuishou_, but from all of her friends, too. It was only through them that she had been able to attain her ultimate, most powerful form.

Eternal Sailormoon.

On her forehead, beams of golden light began to converge, threading and knotting together until they formed the shape of a crescent moon. Usagi released her hold on the broach and it moved downwards of its own accord, to float before her chest. A pair of majestic, angelic wings unfurled from her back, their feathers thick and luxurious. Usagi threw her arms outwards.

As she did, new clothes appeared on her body: a white, seamless bodice with a navy blue sailor collar and pink, round shoulder protectors on her upper half, and white panties on her lower. The Eternal Moon Article was affixed to her bosom, framed by two sets of small white wings.

She extended her right arm and a typhoon of white feathers encircled it, quickly forming into a white glove that extended past her elbow. She held out her left arm and it was identically clothed.

Another flurry of feathers, and now she wore a miniskirt, pleated and triple-layered in yellow, red and blue. Two lengths of thin red ribbon trailed out behind it. Her feet were clad in white, knee-high boots.

On her head, her twin _odango_ were fronted by red medallions. Her blonde hair was decorated with white pearls and feathers, arranged like two sets of wings on either side of her crown. Golden earrings, a star attached to a crescent moon, adorned her ears. Her neck wore a red choker with a golden heart and crescent moon motif.

The wings on her back suddenly shed their feathers, which vanished into thin air, and became part of her costume. They were joined by a second, smaller set of wings that were attached to the rear of her skirt.

Her transformation was complete. She assumed a triumphant pose, left leg raised off of the ground, right arm above her head. Her blonde ponytails, her wings and the ribbons on her skirt billowed out behind her, stirred by the evening breeze from outside the open doorway in which she stood.

She looked over at the Red Widow, who had watched her transformation with wide eyes and an open mouth, her face the very picture of confusion.

"Terrible woman!" she cried dramatically. "You use your good looks to seduce husbands against their will and destroy their marriages! Unforgivable! The crude divorce rate for last year was 1.60 per thousand people!" She cocked her head slightly and narrowed her eyes. "I wonder how many of those _you _caused?"

The Red Widow shook her head briskly, as if to free it from her confused stupor. An angry scowl returned to her face. "Who the hell _are _you!" she demanded to know.

"Sailor-suited pretty soldier of love and justice, Sailormoon!" came the booming reply. As she spoke she thrust her arms about in a well-practised series of movements. "In the name of the moon…" She moved her right arm so that she was pointing directly at the Widow, index finger extended. "I'll punish you!"

She turned her head to look at the well-dressed man standing a few feet away. "Tuxedo Kamen-sama," she said, "take Kazuo-san back to his cabin and find Tomoko-san. Keep them out of danger."

He nodded. "Tomoko-san…" he murmured, turning his head to look in the direction of the Red Widow. She glared back at him hatefully. "What shall I tell her?"

Sailormoon felt a sudden stab of empathy for the Iwamoto couple, briefly wondering if their marriage would be able to take the strain put upon it by the Widow. "Don't tell her anything yet," she replied. When this was all over with, they'd have to think about the best way to handle the situation. Now was not the time.

Tuxedo Kamen-sama nodded, and briskly crossed the room. Sailormoon kept her eyes trained closely on the Widow, who watched him intently but didn't make a move to stop him, all too aware that she was outnumbered. He picked up Kazuo-san's motionless form and slung him over his shoulder, and then made his way to the doorway. He stepped through, and turned his head back.

"Will you be okay, Sailormoon?" he asked. She nodded in reply, not turning to look at him. The masked man turned slightly, his concealed eyes meeting with those of the Red Widow. "Now you'll see what a true woman is," he said. He turned away again. "_Sarabada._"

With that, he disappeared into the night, taking Kazuo-san with him. Sailormoon was left alone with the Red Widow. Their unyielding gazes fixed together with an almost physical connection and a near-silence fell upon them, the only sound being that of the sea breeze.

"That man," said the Widow suddenly, ending their silent stalemate. "You love him."

"Yes," replied Sailormoon with a short nod. "I do."

"How long have you been with him?" asked the Widow. Sailormoon frowned, wary of answering. The Widow's face was blank and unreadable. "Well," she replied, thinking for a moment. She was about to reply _a couple of years_, as that was how much time had elapsed since the Dark Kingdom had been defeated and their subsequent relationship had begun. But then she thought of the distant past, of Prince Endymion and Princess Serenity, and smiled slightly.

"Since before I can remember," she answered.

The Widow nodded. "And does he treat you well?" she asked. Again, Sailormoon nodded. "Yes," she replied. "He…" The smile on her face deepened as she thought of all the wonderful things he did for her, all the wonderful times they had shared, all the wonderful things they had done together.

"He makes me feel like I'm the only girl in the world," she told the Widow softly. "When we're together, I feel loved and secure and happy. I feel like there isn't anything I couldn't do."

The Widow nodded slowly, as if this were a particularly curious answer. "And do you believe he feels the same way about you?" was her next question.

"I know he does," replied Sailormoon. "He'd do anything for me. He'd do anything to make me happy."

The Widow stared at her solemnly for a moment, and then suddenly and inexplicably began to laugh. A long, hollow, empty sound devoid of delight. Sailormoon frowned and took a step towards her. "Why are you laughing?" she demanded.

The Widow wrestled her giggles, if they could be called as such, back under control. "I'm sorry," she said insincerely. "It's just that you really believe it! It's amazing, really, how similar it is. It gives me such a nostalgic feeling."

"Nostalgic?" asked Sailormoon. "What are you talking about?"

"You and I," responded the Widow. "We're the same."

"I am not the same as you!" cried Sailormoon, taking another step forward. The Widow held up a palm. "Don't get me wrong," she said. "We're not the same now. But you're the spitting image of how I used to be." She lowered her head, staring down at her feet as she continued, her voice more subdued. "A pretty little girl with dreams of a prince on a white stallion. So naïve." Her voice was twisted with bitterness, so much so that she practically spat the next words out. "So… gullible."

She looked back up, those powerful green eyes locking with Sailormoon's once more. Sailormoon fancied that she could see a slight shine to them, almost as if the woman were about to cry. But she didn't, and Sailormoon dismissed it as a trick of the light.

"It's like looking into a fun-house mirror," continued the Widow. "On the other side you see yourself, but warped and distorted. A parody of yourself."

"I refuse to believe," said Sailormoon, restrained anger in her voice, "that I could ever see someone like you in my reflection, no matter how warped the glass was!"

"Very well," replied the Widow. "I'll explain it to you. Perhaps then you won't be so quick to judge me."

Sailormoon nodded. _Go ahead._ She had always strongly opposed violence, only resorting to battle when there was no other alternative. If there was a way to somehow dissuade the Widow from hurting anybody else, then she would attempt it. It was her opinion that understanding brought people together. If people could understand one another, then they could begin to work together and find a peaceful solution to their problems. That way, nobody had to get hurt.

"I was the youngest of two sisters," began the Widow. "And, unfortunately, the lesser of the two."

"The lesser?" asked Sailormoon. "In whose eyes?"

"In everybody's eyes!" snapped the Widow, before regaining her composure and speaking calmly again. "My mother. My father. My sister herself." That bitter edge to her voice was growing stronger as she recalled them. "They all saw me as inferior. My sister was more beautiful, more intelligent. In their eyes, I would always be second best. They showered her with love, with praise and attention, with gifts. I was treated adequately, but no better."

Sailormoon felt a twinge of sadness for the woman stood before her. How awful must it be, to know that your parents loved your sister more than you? What kind of awful parents would be capable of such a thing? Her own parents loved both her and Shingo equally, without exception, and when Chibiusa had lived with them they had loved her like their own child too. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to live in the shadow of a sibling, to be treated as inferior.

"So, I spent my childhood constantly trying to catch up with her," continued the Widow. "Our grades at school, our accomplishments in sports, even our social lives. The number of friends we had, and how 'good' they were. Everything was just a ground for competition. Even if I tried to do something of my own, something unique, my sister would try it too and she would always, _always _do it better than me. If I wrote a story, she would write one better. If I drew a picture, she would draw one better. I was never happy. I never felt secure or content. I cried myself to sleep most nights but they didn't care. In their eyes, it was just one more way that I was weaker than my sister."

She lowered her head and drew in a shaky breath, and now Sailormoon was sure that her eyes were coated with tears. But still, they did not fall. She continued on, this time not raising her head. Her voice was quieter, her words slower, the memories becoming more painful to relive.

"I was sixteen years old," she said. "The same age you are now, I imagine." Sailormoon nodded, as she was correct, but the Widow didn't see, her eyes still rooted to the carpet. "I was in high school, and… I met a boy."

She gulped down another lungful of air before continuing. "I was in the library one afternoon, fretting because I hadn't done my science homework. You see, sometimes I wouldn't do my homework. Sometimes I wouldn't do anything. It didn't seem worth trying. But I always regretted it and I'd find myself in the library the next day, desperately trying to complete it instead of eating my lunch."

Another gulp of air. "I couldn't get it done, it was too hard and I didn't have enough time, and I began to cry. I felt absolutely helpless, like nobody understood me and nobody cared. For a brief moment, I just wanted everything to go away. And then, a boy came over to me. He gave me a handkerchief and let me copy his homework, and he told me that he'd had a crush on me for years but he never knew how to tell me."

Sailormoon watched with dismay as thick, round teardrops began to fall from the Widow's downturned face and land with inaudible splashes on the carpet at her feet. "I fell in love with him immediately," she said, her voice quivering. "He was the only person who had ever cared about me for who I was, not scorned me for who I wasn't."

She looked up again, her eyes two shimmering pools. "All of the things you say he gives you, that Tuxedo Kamen. Love, security, happiness. That feeling, like you could do anything. He gave me all of those things. I dreamed of him every day and all through the night. About the two of us, about our wedding, and our beautiful children, and our bright future together."

She looked away, ashamed of the tears dribbling down her cheeks. "One day I felt sick so I got sent home from school. I went upstairs, to have a nap. I thought it'd make me feel better. I shared a room with my sister. My parents probably thought it would inspire me. So I pushed open the bedroom door and…"

A sob escaped her throat. She brought her hands up to her face and angrily wiped away the tears. A few long moments passed, the only sound her ragged, tearful breathing, before she continued.

"He was in there, with my sister. They were… they…"

She turned away and her sobs grew louder, drowning out her words. She covered her face with her hands and wept into them. An awful, strangled song of pain. Sailormoon watched her with tears of her own, her stomach a painful knot of sympathy. How terrible, to be betrayed by somebody you love. How must it feel? The few times when she herself had been separated from Mamochan had been almost intolerable. If she hadn't had her friends, she doubted she would have been able to endure the pain.

After a time, the Widow wrestled her anguish back under control and spoke again, her back still turned. "When my sister had discovered that I had something she didn't, she just had to take it from me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "And just like in everything else, she was better than me."

"I'm so sorry," said Sailormoon honestly, her voice choked with tears.

"That wasn't the worst thing," the Widow said. "It wasn't just my sister. It was him, too. He didn't have a crush on me. He had a crush on my sister. But my sister was the most popular girl in school. She had a long line of suitors, more than I could count. He knew that, so he used me to get to her. He took advantage of me when I was at my lowest and then he willingly allowed himself to be stolen away."

Sailormoon reeled at this new revelation. It was one of the most awful things she had ever heard. It made her heart ache that such callous and uncaring people could exist in the world. A boy who would abuse a lonely girl's feelings to fulfil his petty desires. A sister who would intentionally hurt her own flesh and blood in such a profound and scarring way.

"They told me all that when I found them," said the Widow. "They told me that and then they laughed at me."

"Where are they now?" asked Sailormoon softly.

"They're dead," replied the Widow simply. "I killed them both."

Horror hit Sailormoon like a physical blow and she took a stumbling step backwards before steadying herself. The large white wings of her costume brushed against the doorframe behind her. "How… how could you do such a thing?" she asked with dismay.

"How!" replied the Widow angrily. She wheeled around to face Sailormoon, and her eyes were hard as glass beneath a mask a tears. "After what they did to me! After all the lies he told me! After how my sister made me feel, every day of my life! How!"

"But that's not an excuse!" cried Sailormoon, her eyes and her cheeks still damp with moisture. "There is NO excuse for such a terrible, terrible thing! Death is not a solution! It is NEVER a solution!"

"After what they did to me, I had no other choice!" yelled the Widow.

Sailormoon shook her head fiercely. "Of course you had a choice! I'm sorry for what happened, I truly am. I don't even want to think about how lonely and betrayed you must have felt. But you could have endured! It would have been hard, but you would have recovered, and you could have met somebody else, somebody who truly cared for you!"

"Whatever you say," said the Widow, "I did it. After that, there was no turning back. I left my life behind and I focused on nothing but revenge."

"Revenge!" cried Sailormoon. "But you had your revenge! You killed them!"

"Oh, but it wasn't enough. For a little while, I had been foolish enough to believe that _they_," – Sailormoon could tell from the bitter inflection that she meant men – "were the gentle, caring creatures that fairytale's portray them as. But I knew the truth now. My eyes had been torn open in the most painful of ways."

"So, what?" asked Sailormoon, no longer able to restrain her outrage. "You began to hurt people in the same way you had been hurt? You sought out happy couples and you tore them apart? Why? Because it made you feel better?"

"Quite simply, yes," replied the Widow. "Every broken heart I consumed eased my pain a little more. I wanted to make people suffer, the way I had suffered. I wanted them to see that there's no such thing as true love. It's all just an act, an illusion. People are terribly selfish. I am. You are. Your Tuxedo Kamen is. We use other people as long as its convenient and then we toss them aside."

"You're wrong!" retorted Sailormoon furiously. "Not all men are like that! Not all people are selfish!"

"Every person in my life was," replied the Widow coldly.

"Then I am truly sorry for you," said Sailormoon, blinking away the last of her tears. "But it's all just an excuse. You were hurt, so you think that gives you license to hurt others. That isn't fair, and it isn't right. Regardless of what you believe, I love Mamochan with all of my heart and he loves me. That isn't a fairytale illusion, it isn't a delusion that I've been tricked into. He has shown his love for me time and time again. I can feel his love flowing through me at this very moment, just as I can feel the love of my friends. What right do you have to take that away from me?"

"Be quiet!" shouted the Widow, finally turning around to face her, swiping her arm through the air as if trying to physically deflect her words. "I've heard enough from you! I don't want your sympathy, and I don't want to hear your naïve beliefs."

"You've been corrupted," said Sailormoon. "All the hatred, all the pain in your heart, it's warped you into a monster. How can you ever expect to move on? How can you ever expect to feel better, if all you do is hurt people? Until you deal with the source of all this, you'll never be free! You'll never be happy!"

"I am dealing with the source of all this!" yelled the Widow. "One bastard at a time!"

"Please!" cried Sailormoon, taking a few steps towards her, her hands clasped together as if in prayer. "You have to let go of your anger! I promise you that, in time, you will begin to feel better. You can fall in love again."

"Ha!" scoffed the Widow. "And be hurt again? Be made to feel like nothing again?"

"Perhaps!" replied Sailormoon. "There are bad people in this world, just as there are good. But the good will always outnumber the bad, and the good will always triumph. Falling in love can be a dangerous thing. You're opening your heart and exposing your soul. Of course, you can be hurt. Some of my friends have been hurt by men too. But they remain hopeful for the future. They want to be happy. And they can be happy. There is someone out there for everybody, someone who completes you. I honestly believe that. And when you find that person, it's more wonderful than you could ever imagine."

She stepped forwards again, until she was standing only a few feet away from the Widow. She held out her hand. "Take my hand," she said softly. "I'll help you find him."

The Widow looked down at her outstretched hand. A length of time passed. Sailormoon was not sure of the duration. The Widow stared at her hand intently, her expression blank. Sailormoon dearly hoped that she took it. It wasn't a tactic to get the upper hand, nor was it a ploy to lower her defences. If the Widow took her hand, she would do everything in her power to help her.

Her breath caught in her throat as the Widow's hand moved upwards, stretching out towards hers. Her shaking fingertips brushed with Sailormoon's. The Widow's eyes met hers, and the ice in them had melted. Their deep green surfaces, wet and shiny, were pained and full of sorrow.

"Please," she said quietly, as fresh tears began to tumble down her cheeks. "Please help me."


	10. Chapter Nine

"Please help me," said the Red Widow quietly. 

A smile, gentle and relieved, warmed Sailormoon's face. Her hand remained outstretched. "I will," she said comfortingly. "Just take my hand. It'll be okay. I promise."

The Widow's hand moved forwards again, towards hers. Their fingertips brushed once more. Inch by slow inch their hands grew closer together. Their fingers interlocked. Their palms touched. Sailormoon closed her hand slightly, squeezing the shaking hand of her opponent.

"NO!" screamed the Widow suddenly, so fierce and savage a shout that Sailormoon's heart almost stopped in her chest. The Widow tore her hand free of Sailormoon's as if it had been burned. Her head jerked away, the movement wresting teardrops from her eyes and flinging them into the air like surf from a breaking wave.

"What's the matter?" asked Sailormoon, concerned, taking a step towards the trembling woman.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" the Widow shrieked. She raised her head, and Sailormoon's heart sank into her stomach. That hard coldness had returned to her eyes. Her gaze stabbed into Sailormoon's like an icy blade. "You're lying!" she hissed. "You're trying to trick me!"

"No!" cried Sailormoon vehemently. "I'm not! I just-"

She got no further, as the Widow's cold hand lashed out and struck her full in the face. Sailormoon rocketed backwards across the room, towards the open doorway. She would have flown right through it, out of the door and down the hard wooden steps to the ground, if not for her wings. They were too wide to pass through the frame. They bent slightly under the impact but slowed her momentum enough to stop her. She slid to the ground, landing on her knees.

Her head was pounding angrily and she could see stars swirling around in front of her eyes, their shapes blurry and indistinct. She shook her head, clearing it somewhat, and willed herself to stand up. She did, just in time to see the Widow charging at her.

With a fearful yelp she dived to one side and the Widow narrowly missed her. Her momentum took her through the doorway. She tried to stop herself but failed, and with a scream she tumbled headfirst down the short flight of steps, landing with a muffled thud on the grass.

Sailormoon took her chance to escape. She quickly descended the stairs and hopped over the sprawled body of the Widow, who was already beginning to stir. She took off running, around the side of the cabin and towards the main expanse of the resort. The chilly wind in her face cleared the last of the cobwebs away and she put her mind to thinking of a solution.

She had to stop the Widow for a while, find some way to incapacitate her. If she could do that, she could summon her weapon and put an end to the fight. While her attempt to make peace with the Widow had failed, it had helped her to understand her opponent. Now, she just had to help her.

She risked a look over her shoulder and gasped as she saw the Widow emerge from around the side of the cabin, sprinting at full pelt. Her feet pounded against the grass, so fast that they were practically a blur. Her red hair streamed out behind her. She was rapidly gaining ground.

Sailormoon looked ahead, desperately scanning the terrain for anything that might help her. Her eyes came to rest upon the family swimming pool, glowing an ethereal blue in the centre of the resort. Her eyes widened as a plan sparked to life in her head.

_That's it! _she thought. _If I can knock her into the swimming pool, it'll slow her down long enough for me to use the Tier!_

Her confidence growing, she increased her pace, sprinting as fast as she could towards the distant blue rectangle. Slowly – too slowly – it grew closer. Sailormoon began to tire. Her knees felt like they full of lemonade and her heeled boots were not best suited to lengthy runs. Even without them, she'd never been much of a runner. _To think that Mako-chan and Haruka-san do this for fun, _she thought. Her breath was shooting out in ragged gasps, and she dared not look behind her for fear of seeing the Widow only a pace away.

Somehow, she made it to the pool without collapsing or being caught and slammed on the brakes. Rather than stopping, she continued to move, her feet sliding on the wet tile around the perimeter of the pool. It may as well have been an ice rink. _How am I going to stop? _she pondered.

A beach chair up ahead provided the answer. Watching as it quickly grew nearer and nearer, Sailormoon realised with a horrible certainty that she was going to collide with it. She felt like the driver of a runaway train, watching the buffers approach but unable to do anything but wait. She braced herself for the inevitable impact.

She slammed into it at full throttle and it folded beneath her weight. Her feet left the ground and for a brief moment switched places with her head, before she turned a complete somersault and landed hard on her lower back on the stiff metal frame of the chair.

"Owwww…" she whimpered, sitting up and gingerly rubbing her bruised tailbone. Her entire lower body felt like it'd been worked over by a particularly aggressive wrestler, but at least she'd stopped moving. She forced her aching feet to stand and turned around. The Widow was just arriving.

Sailormoon watched as she stopped running and her bare feet slid gracefully to a halt. _That's not fair! _she thought irritably. She let it go and refocused on her objective. She took a few steps backwards, positioning herself several feet away from the edge of the pool, facing its surface. If the Widow came at her, she'd have to put her back to the pool, which would give Sailormoon a chance.

"You can't run away from me!" seethed the Widow, advancing on her. Just as Sailormoon had planned, the Widow now had her back to the pool. All it would take was a good shove and she'd end up in the water.

"Then do you mind if I run _towards_ you?" she asked, smirking. The Widow stopped, the comment taking her by surprise, and Sailormoon saw her chance. She charged towards the Widow and put all of her strength behind her right shoulder, aiming it squarely at the Widow's chest. When she was only a meter away she jumped, and sailed forwards like a torpedo.

Rather than feel the contact of her body against the Widow's, she felt nothing, save for the wind in her face. She looked down, and saw shimmering, aqua-blue water. The sensation of flying quickly became a sensation of falling, and finally, with a loud _splash!_, she plummeted into the pool.

Her wings kept her afloat, stopping her from sinking to the bottom like a stone, but it was a small comfort. The water was freezing and it instantly soaked through her uniform, seeping through the thin material of her bodice and her panties and chilling her to the bone. She looked up at the Widow, who was staring down at her with an amused smirk of her own.

"You look like a drowned rat, Sailormoon!" she chuckled icily. Her hands and feet began to glow with red light. "Now, let me put you out of your misery."

Sailormoon cursed the irony of the situation. She'd placed herself in exactly the disadvantaged position she wanted to put the Widow in. As the Widow readied her deadly kiss, Sailormoon turned and began to swim towards the other side of the pool, where a ladder led back up to the ground.

It was hard going. As with tennis, and running, and indeed anything that didn't involve playing videogames or reading _manga_, Sailormoon was not adept at swimming. Her costumes' large wings had absorbed as much water as they could carry, like two fluffy, oversized bath towels, and their combined weight hampered her progress further.

With over half the distance to the ladder covered, she turned her head to look back at the Widow. She screamed as she saw the burning, mouth-shaped light of the Widow's kiss descending upon her. She ducked and the kiss sailed over her head, narrowly missing her hair by only a couple of inches. It hit the water in front of her and sank, quickly dissipating into nothingness.

_Her kiss doesn't work in water, _she noted. With renewed determination and faith in her plan she took off swimming again, and quickly reached the ladder. She briskly climbed it, shuddering as her exposed arms and legs broke out into gooseflesh as they left the water, and turned to face the Widow once more. She was already charging up another kiss.

"You know," said Sailormoon, shaking herself from side to side in an effort to dry herself, "this outfit is _really_ not comfortable when it's wet."

"You poor thing," replied the Widow snidely. She raised her hand to her lips and passed the kiss to her fingertips. "Here," she said, "I've got something that'll warm you up!"

She hurled the kiss, and Sailormoon took off running towards it. As she neared it she sprang forwards, turning a full rotation in the air before landing on her shoulder and rolling through, to end up back on her feet. A perfect commando roll. The kiss missed her entirely, sailing clear over her head as she rolled, and floated off towards the sea.

Sailormoon didn't stop. Before the Widow could even begin to charge another kiss, Sailormoon reached her. She jumped again, this time twisting to the side and extending her right leg to its fullest. "Sailormoon Kick!" she cried. The heel of her boot collided with the Widow's stomach and the girl staggered backwards, taken entirely off guard.

She stumbled back towards the edge of the pool, desperately trying to regain her balance, but to no avail. Her bare feet slipped on the wet tile and flew forwards, moving in the opposite direction to the rest of her body.

Sailormoon watched with horror as the next few moments passed in one single, fluid motion. The Widow collapsed backwards, twisting as she fell. Her head, cocked at a peculiar angle, hit the floor first and it bounced off the hard tile with a wet, hollow thud. Her body hit a split second later, and her momentum combined with the slippery surface caused her to slide right over the edge and into the pool. She landed face down in the cold water and floated there, silent and motionless.

_She's dead, _thought Sailormoon, a thick nausea blossoming in her stomach and rising up into her throat. _I killed her._ She looked down at the floating body dazedly.

"_Please. Please help me."_

She thought of the Widow's plea for help. Of her eyes, pained and sorrowful. Her cheeks, sodden with tears. It hadn't been an act. In that brief moment, Sailormoon had witnessed her true form. The girl who had been mistreated by everybody around her, the girl whose vulnerable heart had been broken. She had lost herself in rage and revenge to try and escape from that pain, and that rage had consumed her. It had warped her into something she wasn't.

_I have to help her._

Without wasting another moment, Sailormoon dived back into the water, wincing at its icy sting. She grabbed the Widow's long hair and pulled it backwards, lifting her face out of the water. Her eyes were closed and her breathing shallow but she was alive, at least for now.

Acting quickly, Sailormoon positioned herself under the Widow, wrapping the girls' arms around her neck, and began to swim towards the shallow end of the pool. She didn't weigh much, as her slender figure would suggest, but her additional weight still made the journey a long and difficult one.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, they reached the shallow end. Sailormoon slipped free of the Widow and rolled her onto her back. The water here was only a few inches deep. She climbed out of the pool and then reached down and placed her hands under the Widow's arms. She pulled her free of the water and dragged her backwards until they had reached the grass.

The Widow's breathing had grown more and more shallow during their trek across the pool, and the rise and fall of her chest was now barely visible. Sailormoon knew she had to act quickly. She gently lay the Widow down, flat on her back, being careful to support her head. To her relief, it wasn't bleeding.

Then, kneeling parallel to her, she sucked in a deep breath, leaned down and placed her lips firmly against the Widow's, and blew into her mouth. She exhaled until her lungs were empty and then raised her head and took another deep breath, and repeated the procedure. Next, she lifted her head and placed her hands flat on the Widow's chest, and pressed down as hard as she could. Once, twice, thrice, and again, before she returned to transferring lungfuls of air from her own mouth to the Widow's.

Only a year earlier, her own brother Shingo had almost drowned while at a trip to the seaside. Thankfully, her friend Ami-chan had been with him. Her mother was a doctor and Ami-chan had dedicated herself to following in her footsteps, and she had saved Shingo's life with CPR. After such a close brush with drowning, she had taught Usagi and the rest of her friends the manoeuvre. Sailormoon blessed her for doing so.

She repeated the routine over and over, hoping desperately to see some sign of life. A full minute passed, and the horrible possibility that it might not work occurred to her, but she refused to believe it and continued on, sucking in air until her lungs felt like they were about to burst.

To her eternal relief, after another couple of breaths, the Widow suddenly jerked back to life as if zapped by electricity. She quickly sat up and bowed her head, and spat out what looked like an entire pint of water.

Sailormoon watched, relieved and glad, as the Widow retched and choked for a while, until her breathing began to ease. She gradually became aware of her surroundings, and looked around, clearly confused.

"Are you okay?" asked Sailormoon, standing behind her. The Widow span around, her eyes fearful and disorientated. "What the-" she began, before another fit of coughing overtook her. She put a hand to her chest and coughed loudly, several times, finally spitting out another mouthful of water. She looked back up at Sailormoon.

"What happened?" she asked weakly through a raw, scratched throat.

"You bumped your head and fell into the pool," replied Sailormoon softly. "You nearly drowned. I pulled you out and gave you CPR."

The Widow stared at her blankly, as if she hadn't understood a single word. "It was my fault," continued Sailormoon. "And I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen. I just wanted to knock you into the water."

Another blank stare. It lasted several moments, before the Widow finally spoke. "You… saved my life?" she asked, speaking the words as if they were foreign and unfamiliar. Sailormoon nodded, and then leaned down and placed a hand on the girls' shivering shoulder.

"I said I was going to help you, didn't I?" she said, giving the girl a wink.

"I…" mumbled the Widow, breaking eye contact with her, unsure of how to proceed. "I don't… understand…"

Sailormoon withdrew her hand and took a step backwards. "Don't worry," she said kindly. "Everything's going to be fine."

She raised her right hand into the air and mentally summoned her weapon. The Eternal Tier, a sceptre that allowed her to use her power to help others, to destroy the evil that had infested and infected their once pure hearts like a cancer.

The Widow watched with awe as the long wand appeared in Sailormoon's hand. Its head was red and gold, covered with glittering jewels. A magnificent object, worthy of a queen. She gripped it with both hands, one on the upper part of the long handle, one on the lower. "Silver Moon!" she cried loudly, raising it up above her head. "Crystal Power Kiss!"

Nothing happened.

Sailormoon waited, expecting a golden light to flow out at any moment, expecting to hear a joyous shout of "Beautiful!" as the hateful darkness inside the Red Widow was destroyed and she was freed from its curse.

But still, nothing happened.

Sailormoon lowered the Tier and stared at it, dumbfounded. How could it not work?

She brought it closer to her face, and her ears picked up a low, barely perceptible creaking sound. She frowned. And then, to her horror, the Tier split right down the middle, into two equal halves. The top half clattered to the ground at her feet, and she was left holding the useless, neutered lower section.

"I don't understand," she said quietly, staring at it dumbly. "I don't-"

She cried out in agony as her stomach suddenly burst into a hot ball of pain. She doubled over and sank to her knees, but before she could defend herself, she felt strong hands take hold of her wings. She was hurled roughly into the air, soaring through the dark night before coming to an abrupt landing on the cold grass.

She scrambled to her feet as the Widow charged at her, an animal ferocity in her eyes. "No!" cried Sailormoon, holding up her hands in submission. "What are you doing!" The Widow ignored her and swung again, another punch connecting with Sailormoon's chest. She flew backwards and slammed spine-first into the hard stone wall that ran around the perimeter of the resort. She crumpled back down to the grass, hot tears of pain squeezing themselves loose from her closed eyes.

In only a moment she could hear the Widow standing over her, her breath coming out in rasping bursts. She was pulled roughly to her feet and pressed against the wall. The stone dug into her throbbing spine. It was only waist-high and Sailormoon was acutely aware of the long drop beyond, with only the deep, dark ocean to welcome her at the bottom.

"Please…" she said, looking into the eyes of the girl. A thick layer of cloud had obscured the moon in the sky above them, and without its light the Widow's eyes were no longer green but a deep, empty black. An abyss.

"Please…" Sailormoon begged. "Don't hurt me. I just want to help you."

"You can't help me!" rasped the Widow. "Nobody can help me!"

"But I s-" began Sailormoon, but her words were silenced as the Widow's hands closed around her throat and began to squeeze as hard as they could. Sailormoon fought with all of her remaining strength, struggling and kicking, but it was no use. The Widow was too strong and determined.

_Why didn't the Tier work? _thought Sailormoon, barely able to think amid the sharp pain that shot through her body and the vice-like pressure on her throat. Why hadn't she been able to help the Widow, to save her?

Then, she remembered. She recalled the final battle against Sailorgalaxia, the last time she had been in combat before tonight. Galaxia was the most powerful of all the Sailor Soldiers, and she had been possessed by the root of all the evil in the universe, Chaos.

Sailormoon had channelled every last drop of power she had into the Eternal Tier and focused it all on her opponent, but it had been ineffective, and the Tier had been severed into two pieces by Galaxia's sword. How had she forgotten that?

Panic began to overtake her. Her throat was a burning ball of agony and her heart was pounding in her chest like a caged, wild bird. Her vision was beginning to fade and blur. She could feel the last of her strength rapidly draining away. She tried to speak, to beg for her life, to reason with her attacker but she couldn't force anything more than a strangled moan through her contorted throat. _Somebody, please, help me_, she thought desperately.

For no reason that she could discern, an image came into her mind's eye. The Crystal Moon Rose, standing proudly on the bedside table in their cabin.

_Please_, thought Sailormoon. The darkness was all around her now, thick and oppressive, forcing its way into her head, drowning out her thoughts. _Help me. _She willed herself to stay awake, for just a few seconds more, until somebody could help her.

_Please. Help me._

A blinding flash of light erupted before her eyes, and Sailormoon felt the pressure on her throat lift. Freed, she fell to her knees, choking and coughing, sucking deep lungfuls of air into her chest. She reached a hand up to her throat and rubbed it tenderly. The skin beneath her choker was bruised and sore.

She looked up, into the bright light that had saved her. It was silver-white, like moonlight, so bright that she had to squint to look at it. The Widow was staring at it too, her mouth wide, her head slightly turned away and her hand partially shielding her eyes.

As her eyes adjusted to it, Sailormoon realised that there was an object in the centre of the light. She gasped as she recognised it. The Crystal Moon Rose. It hovered in the air above her, its head a burning red diamond, its stem a tapestry of citrine crescent moons.

Eyes wide with wonder, Sailormoon stood and reached up to touch it. Her fingers closed around the stem and another burst of light emanated from it. The Widow backed away slowly, watching with confusion and fright as the beautiful crystal sculpture glowed like a beacon in the dark night.

Sailormoon felt herself being filled with energy. Her injuries healed, her aching muscles relaxing and settling. Her wet hair and soaking clothes dried. Her bruised throat loosened and her breathing came easily. A wonderful energy, coursing through her body and enriching her heart. She turned to the Widow and pointed the Crystal Moon Rose at her.

"Wh-what are you doing!" cried the Widow fearfully, shrinking away from the copious light. Sailormoon smiled at her. "I'm doing what I promised," she replied. Words flowed into her mind and she shouted them aloud, her voice bursting with vigour and life.

"Moon… Singular… Efflorescence!"

As she spoke, the head of the Crystal Moon Rose opened, the glass petals unfurling. A great silver light glowed within it, and as Sailormoon completed her cry, it burst outwards. A beam of light streaked through the air, illuminating everything around it with such brightness that night, in its wake, turned to day. The beam struck the Red Widow, who screamed and stood bolt upright, her feet almost leaving the ground.

The light became brighter still, and Sailormoon could no longer see the girls' body. All she could see was the light, lustrous and sublime. And then, the light was gone and the petals of the Crystal Moon Rose's head closed. A deep sigh of relief rose from her chest and she quickly made her way over to where the Widow lay.

She lay on her back, her face expressionless and her eyes closed. Sailormoon looked down at her and smiled. It would be difficult for her, but she was finally free to move on. With the hatred and revenge in her heart abolished she could recover. Perhaps, in time, she'd fall in love again, this time with a man who truly cared for her. Whatever the case, Sailormoon would help her.

The Widow opened her eyes, and they were the eyes of a scared, helpless child, woeful and timid.

"How do you feel?" asked Sailormoon, bending down beside her.

The Widow looked at her. "I…" she said, quietly, before falling silent and looking away.

"It's okay," said Sailormoon, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You're going to be okay now. It's all over."

"It's not over," said the Widow quietly, not looking at her. "Not until you kill me."

Before Sailormoon could even react, the girls' hands were around her throat again, their sharp fingernails digging into the tender flesh of her neck. Her eyes locked with Sailormoon's and, just as before, they were a black, frozen void.

Sailormoon frantically scrambled backwards, managing to struggle free of the girls' grip. She back-pedalled quickly, putting distance between herself and the Widow but as she did, the Crystal Moon Rose slipped from her hand.

Sailormoon watched, gasping for breath, her face alive with alarm, as the Widow retrieved the glass object from the ground. She examined it with disdain. "Useless, ugly piece of junk," she decided, and tossed it over her shoulder.

"No!" cried Sailormoon, but she could do nothing but watch as the beautiful gift soared over the stone wall that separated the resort from the sea and plunged out of sight. She shook her head slowly, tears of frustration and dismay seeping from her downturned eyes.

_I don't understand_, she thought helplessly. _Why didn't it work?_

"You've failed," spat the Widow bitterly, regarding her with such cold loathing that Sailormoon's blood turned to ice. "You can't help me, even if you do want to."

She took a step forward. "The only thing you can do for me now," she said, "is die."


	11. Chapter Ten

Sailormoon watched, her vision blurred by tears, as the Red Widow began to glow. The four points of red light travelled up her body, growing brighter and converging upon her lips, but this time, it did not stop there. The light continued to become brighter still, more intense. 

Sailormoon shielded her eyes with her hands, opening them just enough to see. She was careful not to look directly at the Widow and instead keep her in the corner of her peripheral vision. As she watched in this fashion, she saw the light spill outwards, unable to be contained upon the small shape of the Widow's lips. It travelled back down along her body, coating every inch of her skin a deep red, the colour of blood.

Down and further down until it reached her feet and then it began to spread outwards from her, a rapidly swelling puddle of crimson light that Sailormoon absently compared to the tea she had spilled on the carpet earlier that evening, before this nightmare had begun.

From the centre of the spreading light came a pained scream, a sharp cry of fright and confusion. Sailormoon could just barely make out the shape of the Widow's body, shaking and convulsing as if in the throes of a seizure.

"What have you done to me!" she screeched. She sank to her knees and then slumped forwards, managing to place her hands on the ground to stop her from landing on her face. The light was still spreading outwards, staining the grass and the stone wall and the very air itself.

It was only a few feet away from Sailormoon now, and she took a step backwards before it could touch her. As she did, the Widow let out another scream, rage and exertion now blended with the pain. With great difficulty she stood up, her legs shaking beneath her as if she were under a great pressure, as if a force of gravity were trying to flatten her against the ground.

She raised her head and threw her arms outwards, splaying her feet for stability, and the light quickly began to travel back the way it had come, the red puddle around her shrinking until it reached her body, and then travelling back up her legs and over her chest until it reached her lips. The light burned upon them like a comet's tail, seething and bulging as if desperate to escape its confines once more.

Sailormoon watched, unable to look away, as the Widow slowly raised a shaking hand to her lips. She pressed her fingers against her mouth and cried out in pain as the light bled onto them. She raised her hand above her head, the light upon it swelling and contracting, as if it were a living, breathing being.

"Sailor… moon…" she hissed through gasping breaths. "Kiss your life goodbye…"

She threw her arm forward and hurled the devastating kiss. Sailormoon began to back away, watching with mounting horror as it approached her, but her feet were as heavy as lead weights, unwilling and almost unable to move. The flaming lips grew larger, burning like an inferno, until it overcame her vision and the world was engulfed in a deep, angry red. She could feel the kiss that would end her life growing closer, chillingly cold despite its burning surface.

_I'm sorry, Widow, _thought Sailormoon sadly as she waited for the inevitable. _I'm sorry I couldn't help you._

She let out a gasp as she felt something enfold her. Not the terrible oblivion of the Widow's kiss, but something else, something solid. Something warm. She opened her eyes and blinked a few times, clearing away the bright red spots that danced before them.

"Sailormoon," said the face that came into focus before hers. "Are you okay?"

Sailormoon regarded the handsome face with a smile. His white mask could not conceal the concern in his sapphire-blue eyes. "Tuxedo Kamen-sama…" she whispered, relief washing over her, her voice a choked whimper. "Thank goodness…"

She turned her head to look for the Widow, and saw nothing but the night sky in every direction. She looked down, and saw the ground far below. In any other circumstance she would have cried out with surprise and fear, but wrapped in the arms of her husband she felt safe and secure, like nothing could hurt her. Like she was invincible.

She turned her head back towards him, and the shout of fearful surprise she thought she had avoided came tearing out of her. The red light, the Widow's kiss, was somehow behind them, cutting a swathe through the darkness towards them like a vengeful phoenix.

"Tuxedo Kamen-sama!" she wailed. "Behind you!"

He turned his head just in time to see the kiss, and quickly swung around in mid-air, throwing up his cape like a shield. Sailormoon squealed with fright as the thin material above her head began to sizzle and burn. Red light seeped through the holes that it created.

Then, to her relief, the light passed them by. It flew narrowly above them, knocking Tuxedo Kamen-sama's hat from his head and flinging it into the darkness. His cape was tattered but he was thankfully unharmed.

They began to fall, slowly at first and then increasingly faster. The night breeze lifted her flailing ponytails, suspending them in the air above her head. She looked down again, and the ground was rushing towards her as if she were looking at it through a zooming telescope. The sight took her breath away and she was overcome by a nauseous sensation of vertigo. She squeezed her eyes shut and wrapped her arms more tightly around her husband's body.

"It's okay," he said, his voice only just audible over the roar of the wind around them. "I've got you."

A few seconds later, the rush of the breeze abruptly stopped. She opened her eyes to find herself on the ground, still held tightly in his arms. He had landed in a crouch. He stood and placed her gently on her feet. The ground felt reassuringly solid beneath them.

She looked around for the Red Widow, and saw her a short distance away. She was facing them but wasn't looking at them. Rather, she was looking up at the sky above their heads. Her shaking arms were outstretched and she was slowly drawing them backwards, as if beckoning something toward her.

Sailormoon's eyes widened and she flung herself at Tuxedo Kamen-sama, tackling him to the ground. Only a second later the red light of the Widow's kiss rocketed over their heads, before arcing back upwards and ascending once more.

She quickly stood, taking hold of Tuxedo Kamen-sama's hand and pulling the astonished man to his feet beside her. "It's the Widow!" she explained. "She's controlling the kiss, guiding it towards us!"

Sure enough, as they turned to look at the Widow, she had turned away from them and was slowly steering the kiss around in a semicircle, to bring it back the way it had come. "I don't think so!" said Tuxedo Kamen-sama, and before Sailormoon could stop him, he had taken off sprinting towards the girl.

As he approached, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a black, polished stick, like a cane. He held it out in front of him and pressed a button on the side with his thumb, and the stick immediately lengthened, telescoping out before him like a vaulting pole. The hard, rounded end slammed into the small of the Widow's naked back and she let out a gasping scream and collapsed to the ground. As quickly as it had extended, the stick retracted until it was small enough to fit back inside his tuxedo jacket.

Sailormoon watched as he put it away and approached the fallen body of the Widow. She lay face-down on the floor, her body jerking spasmodically. He turned back to look at her. She met his gaze and smiled, but her relief turned to horror once again as she realised the light was still descending upon him, racing towards his turned back.

"Tuxedo Kamen-sama!" she screamed, desperation etched into her voice. "It's still coming!"

She could see his eyes widen behind his mask and he threw himself down to the ground, just in time to avoid being hit by the light. It touched down barely a meter in front of his face and travelled along the ground for a few moments, leaving the grass charred and black in its wake, before slowly elevating once more.

It was gathering speed and increasing in size with every moment. It now resembled some kind of demonic lost soul, a mindless evil spirit that had been twisted into the ironic form of a pair of lips.

It was heading right towards her.

She turned and ran but it was too fast, and she could feel it inexorably growing nearer, the air all around her glowing red as it closed the distance between them. She swerved to the right, hoping to lose it, but it turned with her and continued its pursuit without losing an inch of ground. It was drawing closer still, and Sailormoon's legs were quickly beginning to tire.

"Tuxedo Kamen-sama!" she shouted fearfully, doubting he could even hear her but longing for his help regardless. She let out a yelp of pain as her ankle gave way beneath her. She tripped and sprawled forwards to the ground, scraping her bare knees against the cold grass. She lowered her head and closed her eyes, waiting for the light to reach her and for that awful coldness to swallow her whole, but it didn't. Nothing happened.

Slowly, she raised her head and looked over her shoulder. The kiss was hovering in the air only a few feet away, motionless. Why had it stopped? Confusion and relief fought for control of her emotions, with relief quickly emerging the victor. She stood and turned around, cupping her eyes to keep out the worst of the harsh red light.

The kiss floated in the air for a few moments more, and then it suddenly began to shrink. It's shape became vague, the edges hazy and undefined. In only a few seconds it had shrunk until it was only a single point of brilliant red light, and then that too faded away to nothingness. A rose fluttered to the ground in the space it had occupied, its petals blackened and dead. One of Tuxedo Kamen-sama's roses, Sailormoon knew.

She ran over to where he stood and hugged him tightly, pushing her head into his chest and inhaling all that she could of his masculine scent. "Tuxedo Kamen-sama…" she sighed, raising her head to look at him. "Thank-you for saving me again." He was smiling down at her, as relieved as she was. She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the lips, quick and warm and sweet as sugar.

"You… bastards…" came a rasping voice from the ground, and they both turned to look down at the Red Widow. She was curled into an uncomfortable position on the grass, staring up at them with hatred in her eyes. Her entire body shook uncontrollably. Her eyes were glassy and dull.

She looked up at Sailormoon and tried to laugh, but in her weakened, distressed state it sounded more like a strangled, painful gurgle. "He'll… leave you…" she croaked. "No matter what you do… he'll leave… you…"

"No," replied Sailormoon firmly. "You're wrong."

"He will… leave you…" the Widow repeated. "I'll… spare you… the pain…"

Almost before she had finished speaking, the Widow twisted around, revealing the burning kiss on the fingers of her right hand. She hurled it, and Sailormoon watched, too surprised to move or even react, as the small pair of glowing lips shot towards her. _Move! _her mind commanded, but her body didn't listen. She just stood, defenceless and numb, as it crossed the short distance between the Widow's body and her own.

A low scream of pain echoed out into the night as the kiss slammed into a waiting chest and burned through the clothing that covered it. The soft flesh beneath sizzled as the cold heat tore into it, but it lasted only a moment before the light died out and the kiss evaporated into thin air.

Sailormoon watched, beginning to cry almost before her eyes had even registered the scene, as Tuxedo Kamen-sama slumped to the ground, clutching his wounded chest and groaning with agony.

"Tuxedo Kamen-sama!" she screamed, horrified, falling to her knees beside him and rolling him over onto his back. "Mamochan!" She anxiously examined his chest, where his shirt had been partially eaten away and a red, mouth-shaped wound was burned into the flesh, still smoking slightly.

She reached up to his face and gently removed his mask. Behind it, his eyes were closed. "M-Mamochan?" she asked in a small, timid voice. Time slowed to a crawl as she waited for him to respond, to say something, to move, to give her some sign that he wasn't…

"MAMOCHAN!" she screamed, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him roughly. She was vaguely aware of the Widow behind her, moving or talking or perhaps both, but she paid no attention. Tears streamed from her eyes, falling with heavy splashes onto his jacket.

"Usako…"

His eyes fluttered open and locked with hers, and Sailormoon burst into tears. "Mamochan…" she moaned. She wrapped both arms around him and held him against her chest protectively. "Mamochan, Mamochan, Mamochan…"

She continued to repeat his name, gradually getting quieter, her voice becoming softer, until she was merely whispering, and then she fell silent. He raised a hand and stroked the hair from her tear-stricken eyes, and smiled. Sailormoon managed to smile back weakly, her eyes swimming with tears. "I thought you… I thought…" she whimpered.

"Don't be silly," he said softly. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I don't understand," came a dull, quiet voice from behind them, and Sailormoon was quickly jolted back to reality. She span around, not releasing her grip on her husband, to look directly into the eyes of the Red Widow, who sat a few feet away.

"I don't understand," she said again, shaking her head slowly. "Why did he stand in the way of my kiss? How did he know it wouldn't be strong enough to kill him?"

"I didn't," replied Mamochan, his voice still tinged with pain. "I just had no other choice. If I hadn't stopped it, it would have hit Usako."

Sailormoon was hit by another wave of fierce, overpowering love and she held him even tighter, pushing his head into the soft swell of her breast.

"You would… give your life for her?" the Widow asked, her voice indicating that the concept was entirely alien to her. Mamochan nodded. "Yes, I would," he replied simply. "I made a vow to protect and care for her, no matter what happens, and I shall never break that vow."

The Widow looked from Sailormoon to Mamochan and back again, and for a moment, Sailormoon saw the cold, hard sheen in her eyes thaw, as it had done back in the cabin.

"Don't you see?" she asked gently. "There are people who would do anything for the one they love. People who would endure anything to ensure their safety. Not all men want to hurt us, to take advantage of us." She placed a hand on the back of Mamochan's head and stroked his dark hair softly. "Real love does exist," she said. "I know, because I've found it."

She looked back at the Widow, and again the ice in her gaze melted, this time for a little longer. "There must be a way," Sailormoon continued, "that we can help you."

"But why?" asked the Widow, mystified now, her eyes beginning to mist. "Why would you help me now, after everything I've done to you? Why don't you hate me?"

"I don't hate anyone," replied Sailormoon honestly. "I just want everyone to be happy. I don't like to see people in pain."

"I…" murmured the Widow, and the ice melted once again. She looked at Sailormoon, green eyes full of sorrow. "I want you to… to help me…" she whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks. "But I… I can't stop… I don't…" She trailed off and began to sob miserably.

"Sailormoon," came a voice from Sailormoon's chest, and she looked down at Mamochan. "I have another rose for you." He reached into his jacket, and Sailormoon's eyes opened wide with wonder as he pulled out a glittering flower made of glass.

"The Crystal Moon Rose…" she breathed. "How… how did…"

He smiled and shook his head. "That doesn't matter," he said. He nodded over at the Red Widow, who had collapsed to her hands and knees and was weeping hoarsely. "What matters is that we help her."

Whether by coincidence, or whether it somehow knew, the moon chose that moment to break through the thick layer of cloud that had concealed it all evening. The clouds floated away, swirling and breaking apart like bubbles in a bathtub, and familiar, silver-white light flowed down to illuminate the figures on the grass below.

Bathed in its light, Sailormoon reached down and wrapped her hand around the stem of the Crystal Moon Rose, and as she did, a great light burst from it, silver-white like the moon above. She stared in amazement as the stem, with its delicately carved crescent-moons, began to lengthen. It extended impossibly until it was almost twice its original length. It was long enough now for the two of them to hold onto it.

Mamochan's hand joined hers on the stem, and as he touched it, the light that flowed from within the crystal flower doubled, a rich gold mingling with the silver. She watched with delight as the mouth-shaped wound on his chest healed immediately, fading away to nothingness and leaving his skin smooth and unbroken. The light flowed through her body too, and at that moment, Sailormoon felt closer to him than she had ever felt before.

_Of course, _she thought as the warm power caressed every part of her. _I understand now._

She recalled the letter from Neo Queen Serenity, the one that had been sent with the Crystal Moon Rose when it had arrived earlier in the day. _"Please treasure it as we have done," _it had said, _"and may it give you the strength to stand together no matter what may befall you."_

_That's why I couldn't defeat the Widow by myself, _thought Sailormoon. _This gift is for the two of us._

She stood, and Mamochan stood beside her, and they turned to face the blubbering wreck that was the Red Widow, crouched on the grass in front of them. "It'll be okay now," Sailormoon told her kindly. The Widow looked up at them, unable to speak, but the look in her eyes was unmistakable. More than the pain, more than the sorrow, what Sailormoon saw there was hope.

"We're going to help you," she said. "Both of us."

"Together," said Mamochan from beside her.

And together, they raised the Crystal Moon Rose and aimed its radiant head towards the Widow. New words came into Sailormoon's mind and she spoke them aloud at the same time as Mamochan, their two voices blending together into one solitary call of restoration.

"Rose… Moon… Plural… Efflorescence!" they chorused, and as they spoke, an incredible light flowed from the open head of the Crystal Moon Rose, brighter and more wonderful than any that Sailormoon had ever seen. Gold and silver, both and yet neither, spiralling outwards until it enveloped the Widow's body.

For a single moment, the icy hardness returned to the Widow's eyes, the hateful rage inside of the girls' body struggling to survive, before it melted away entirely. The light grew brighter still and her body was lost to it for a moment. A joyous cry came from within – "Divine!" – the Widow's voice almost breaking with ecstasy. And then, the light faded away, leaving nothing but an afterglow like the final, lingering moments of a sunset.

As it too dispersed, leaving only the moonlit, breezy air, the Crystal Moon Rose in their hands began to ripple and fade, quickly losing its solidity until it disappeared from sight altogether. Sailormoon uncurled her fist, which had gripped its stem, and looked up at the moon, a glowing beacon in the dark sky above. She smiled at it like she would an old friend, and silently sent her thanks. She looked back at Mamochan, who smiled warmly and slipped his hand into hers.

Hand-in-hand, they walked over to where the girl who was no longer the Red Widow lay. Sailormoon recalled her referring to the name "Mibo Akai", before she had revealed herself as the Red Widow.

"Akai-san?" she said gently, crouching down beside her. She lightly gripped the girls' shoulder and turned her over onto her back. She was unconscious, eyes closed, but a smile was on her face. A pink, rosy hue warmed her cheeks.

"Akai-san?" asked Sailormoon again.

The girl opened her eyes, and they were a beautiful and soulful green, their surfaces wet with tears. "What happened?" she asked groggily, regarding the faces of Sailormoon and Mamochan with confusion. Sailormoon took the girls hand and squeezed it softly.

"You just lost your way a little," she replied with a smile. "That's all."

* * *

With a deep, exhausted sigh, Usagi pulled herself up onto the bed and placed her head on the soft, thick pillow. She closed her eyes and let the comfort wash over her. It seemed like entire days had passed since she'd first lay on the bed's luxuriant surface, even though she knew it had only been a few hours. She smiled as she heard Mamochan in the bathroom next door, humming some tune to himself. He was just getting out of the bath.

She replayed the events of the evening over in her mind as she waited for him to join her. It hadn't been a fun experience, but it had been far removed from the worst battle she'd ever been through, and she was glad that everybody had survived unscathed, and in the case of the Widow – or rather, Mibo Akai-san – had been given new hope for the future and a chance to be happy.

She dearly hoped that Akai-san found her true love, whoever and wherever he was. After everything she'd been through, she deserved to be happy. It would take time for her to recover, to come to terms with the terrible things she had done, but Usagi would be there for her whenever she needed help, and she knew that all of her friends would gladly lend their support too.

She looked over at the Crystal Moon Rose. It sat on the bedside table, just as it had done before, returned to its original size and shape. It still glowed warmly. Not only had they saved Akai-san, but she had also felt her love for Mamochan reach a new level of intensity. She wondered if there would ever be a point where she would not be able to love him just that little bit more. The sound of his humming, pleasant and uplifting, grew closer to the door and she grinned to herself. _I doubt it._

Her thoughts went to the Iwamoto couple. While Usagi had been battling the Red Widow, Tuxedo Kamen-sama had taken Kazuo-san back to his cabin. Tomoko-san had arrived not long afterwards, intensely relieved to find her husband safe and well. She had asked Tuxedo Kamen-sama what had happened, but before he could compose a suitable response, Kazuo-san had told her the truth.

He had told her that he had been tempted by another woman, and had even kissed her. He explained that he hadn't wanted to, and that he had fought against it with all of his strength, but her allure had been too strong. He told his stunned, hurt wife that he would pack his bags and leave that very moment if she never wanted to see him again, and that he would fully understand if that was what she wanted. However, he hoped she would find it in her big, loving heart to forgive him, and he would try his hardest, every day of his life, to somehow make it up to her.

With tears in her eyes, Tomoko-san had looked at Tuxedo Kamen-sama and managed to ask, in a tiny voice, "Is this true?" Tuxedo Kamen-sama had nodded, and explained that the woman had indeed seduced him against his will, using not just her physical charms, but an evil power too. Tomoko-san had shook her head, not sure what to believe or what to think, but before she could say anything, Tuxedo Kamen-sama had suddenly left, sensing that Usagi was in danger.

They had discovered later, as they had checked in on the Iwamoto couple following the climax of the battle, that they had watched the remainder of the fight from afar. The incredible display of magical energy displayed throughout had convinced Tomoko-san that her husband was telling the truth about his experience with the Widow, and that he had not willingly betrayed her.

She was still hurt, and it would be some time before she fully forgave him, but Usagi had been pleased to hear that they were going to stay together, or at least try their very hardest. Whether they would succeed or fail was anybody's guess, but Usagi had a feeling that they'd survive. She'd seen the same effortless, wordless bond between the two of them that she shared with Mamochan, and she knew first-hand that it wasn't an easy bond to break.

The door to the bathroom opened and Mamochan stepped in, wearing a dark blue bathrobe. He was drying his shiny wet hair with a towel. He smiled warmly at her and sat down on the right side – his side – of the bed.

"Nice bath?" asked Usagi. She got to her knees and wrapped her arms around his back, and rested her chin on his shoulder. He nodded, continuing to dry his hair. The towel tickled her ear and she let out a giggle, before snatching it away from him and tossing it across the room. It landed in a heap in the corner.

"I like your hair wet," she said, lifting her head and running her hands through its dark curls. She slowly advanced from massaging his scalp to cupping his face with her hands, her thumbs tracing slow circles about his cheeks. He leaned towards her and she met him halfway and they kissed, long and slow and deep. Usagi sank back down to the mattress and he came with her, ending up on top of her with his arms around her waist.

"Mamochan…" she mumbled breathily, in between kisses. "Usako…" came his whispered reply, hot breath tickling her tongue. She kissed him again, feeling passion beginning to overwhelm her. She was unable – and unwilling – to resist. She pulled open his robe and planted hot, sweet kisses on his chest, on the spot where the Widow's kiss had burned him during the battle. His hands found the ties on her own robe and swiftly undid them, and pulled the soft fabric apart.

Usagi smiled with satisfaction as she heard the breath catch slightly in his throat as he saw what she wore beneath. It was the little silk negligee that she had received as a wedding gift. _Thank you so much, Minako-chan, _she thought deliriously.

"I'll get the light," Mamochan whispered, and he unwillingly separated himself from her, quickly crossing to the door and flicking off the lightswitch.

He returned to the bed, and beneath the soft, red-and-gold glow of the Crystal Moon Rose, they made love.


	12. Epilogue

In a large bedroom, inside a beautiful palace that sat in the centre of a crystal city on the sapphire-blue world that we will one day know as our own, a young queen slowly opened her eyes. She had been dreaming, of distant times and battles won, and of long kisses shared in the dark. 

She rose from the bed, pushing back the luxurious silken covers, and her bare feet took her to the window, her long blonde hair almost brushing against the floor. Her blue eyes took in the twinkling lights of Crystal Tokyo, the magnificent kingdom that she had inherited alongside her husband, before drifting upwards, coming to rest on the distant moon. It shone in the vast night sky like a pearl. Ancient craters lay scattered across its surface.

The queen's name was Serenity, a name that perfectly befit her gentle manner and pure heart, and as she gazed up at the silent orb, that heart was filled with happiness. Behind her, sleeping soundly in their bed, lay the man she loved. She turned to look at him. His handsome face was lit by the gentle moonlight that streamed through the window.

"Endymion…" she whispered, the utterance of his name sending a shiver down her spine. She had loved him since the moment she had first glimpsed him, and rather than ebb away, her love for him had only increased, each and every single day, and she knew that as time passed, she would only continue to love him more.

"I love you…" she murmured, gazing fondly at his sleeping face.

At the sound of her voice, he stirred slightly, and his eyes fluttered open. He looked over at her, standing by the window, and smiled. "Anything the matter?" he asked, his gentle voice thick with slumber. Serenity shook her head. He patted the warm space beside him with one hand. "Come back to bed," he implored.

She did as he asked and climbed back into bed, settling into the strong arms of her husband. _Endymion_. The man she truly loved, the man she would do anything for, and the man she would be with for all eternity.

As their lips met and their bodies became one in the darkness, the night, like so many others, seemed to last a lifetime. It seemed as though morning would never come.

Neo Queen Serenity, content as she was in the embrace of her beloved Endymion, didn't really mind.

**THE END**


End file.
